Saying Goodbye
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: Molly has reached the end of the line with Sherlock. She needs to say goodbye and move on. How will Sherlock react when he realises. Sherlolly all the way, wrapped up in a crime which brings the two closer together.
1. Chapter 1

**So here we are with the start of a new story, as with all my stories we are talking 100% pure Sherlolly but I am aiming to bring in another crime plot line as I did last time. **

**As some of you will have guessed the inspiration for this story has come from the song Say Something by A Great Big World. There have been other fics using the Say Something title though and I wanted to have a slightly different theme for the story hence Saying Goodbye. Don't worry there won't be too much angst though. Rated M for smut, smut and maybe some more smut, you know my style by now.**

**I own nothing but the idea, everything else belongs to ACD, Moffatt and Gatiss.**

**Chapter 1**

It felt like it had been raining for days. Molly sat in the morgue listening to the rain hitting the basement windows. If she looked out all she could see was grey clouds. It seemed very trite to say it but it matched how she felt at that moment.

She sighed as she sat back in her chair, her hands playing with the pen she had just finished writing with. For what seemed like the thousandth time she wondered what on earth she was going to do.

It had all come to a head the previous week. Following the whole Moriarty fake jump incident Sherlock had been back for well over a year. John and Mary were back together and had had a baby girl just over a month ago. Molly had gone round with gifts and had sat holding this small new life and her stomach had twisted, for a moment she almost couldn't take a breath. Would she ever hold her own child in her arms? She'd made an excuse and left shortly after making her way back to her empty flat where she'd spent the rest of the evening crying into a bottle of wine.

She could have had that with Tom if she'd continued with the engagement. They probably would have been married by now, maybe even trying for a child of their own. She closed her eyes seeing once again the pain in his eyes when she'd broken things off, when she'd explained to him that no matter how much she loved him she loved someone else more.

Was it worth it? There was no 'relationship' with Sherlock. He didn't treat her any differently now to the day he first met her. No, that was a lie. He didn't make false compliments to get his own way, he at least respected her that much now.

She had hoped that they would be closer, be friends maybe. Yes, they worked well together, he would ask her opinion on his experiments, would listen to her observations regarding the murder victims he was called in to help investigate, she would even occasionally see him outside of work if John organised some kind of get together but that was it, and it wasn't enough. Not anymore.

She wanted to be with someone, needed companionship, the chance of children and she was never going to get that with Sherlock.

It wasn't as though she hadn't tried, she had. She really had. Two days ago she'd gathered whatever strength she had left, where he was concerned, and she'd tried again.

He'd been in the lab checking out something with the microscope, making notes. He was looking gorgeous, as ever, wearing a fitted black suit, tight white shirt open at the neck, his dark curls falling over his forehead. As she walked towards him her mouth ran dry, she almost gave up and walked away but he spoke without even looking up.

'What is it Molly? Spit it out, your nerves are distracting me.'

'Oh...I..err. I was wondering if you'd like to go for coffee sometime?'

At this he looked up, a confused expression on his face, 'I don't understand we have coffee all the time, don't we?'

'Yes, I mean no. I mean, we have coffee here in the lab, but would you like to go out sometime, for a meal...or coffee..or I don't know...' She trailed off partly wishing she had never started this but also knowing that she needed to try.

He huffed, 'I don't think that would be a good idea Molly.' With that he turned back to his microscope effectively dismissing her, without an explanation or anything. It was all she could do not to run as she left the room. She wondered if it wouldn't have been better if he'd torn her to shreds with one of his deductions, at least she'd know why he was rejecting her. This, this was just so final, so uncompromising.

So she was back to her original question, what on earth was she going to do now?

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was at home in Baker St. The flat seemed so very empty since John had moved back out. He'd told everyone that he preferred it that way, that he was better living alone, no stupid in the room, no distractions, but it was a lie, he missed John. He was also vaguely aware that having John around was probably good for him.

John was definitely useful when it came to chatting to Mrs Hudson when she brought up tea and cake. He was good at telling Sherlock when he'd crossed a line and said or done the wrong thing, which seemed to be often. He also gave Sherlock insight into the mind set of ordinary people which often times proved invaluable. Plus now he'd got used to expounding his theories to a real life person his skull was difficult to go back to.

He didn't want to get a new flat mate though, didn't want anyone else in his life. Yes his circle of friends was small compared to most people but it was huge for Sherlock who had never had friends in his life. Up until this point he had just had his family, Mycroft had been the nearest he'd ever had to a companion, everyone else had just been wallpaper, background noise.

Now he had John (he still wasn't quite sure about Mary yet), Mrs Hudson, Lestrade and Molly.

Molly, his Molly. He knew she wanted more than just friendship from him but he couldn't understand why she would need to change the status quo. They worked well together, it was...companionship. When things got too quiet in the flat he always knew he could go and be with Molly at Bart's even if they didn't speak to each other.

He remembered back a couple of days to when she had awkwardly asked him out, just like that first time four years ago. He had been tempted to say yes, but he knew what he was like. He'd say or do the wrong thing, would hurt her all over again. What if that made her leave, or she refused to work with him anymore? No, they were better off as they were, staying friends, staying safe.

He was particularly glad though that she had broken things off with that idiot Tim though. He rolled his eyes remembering John and Mary's wedding and the 'meat dagger' reference. He hoped that meant Molly had given up on men. He didn't want her distracted, it was far better when it was just the two of them and he wasn't competing for her attention.

He paused in his thoughts, rolling back through them in his mind palace, a slight frown on his face, something unusual, unexpected even, what was it...yes, there it was. _He'd been tempted to say yes._

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly had spoken to Mike Stamford. She didn't want to leave Bart's but there was a secondment opportunity at one of the other London hospitals and she was thinking it might be a way of giving her some separation from Sherlock. After all it had worked last time. She'd met Tom when he had been away, maybe she could meet someone else, maybe not being around Sherlock all the time would help her to think of him less.

Mike had spoken to his counterpart at Charing Cross Hospital. It was maternity cover but the pathology unit there was much bigger than at Bart's. It would be a great opportunity, career-wise, for Molly and who knows, if the current position holder chose not to return after maternity leave the position might become available permanently.

She thought it through that evening as she sat listening to music and drinking yet another glass of cheap white wine. All this moping over 'him' really wasn't healthy for her, she drank alone far too much. This change could be a fresh start for her. She could be someone new, more confident, less mopey, less drunk. She giggled to herself, her cat, Toby, languidly opening one eye to stare at her from his position on the settee.

The evening started off with her feeling very upbeat about the change and all it entailed but by the time she was embarking on her fourth glass the music had become more melancholy and she sniffed as she listened to yet more lyrics which mocked her feelings for Sherlock.

It was as she was listening to a new song that she'd recently downloaded that she heard the words which really seemed to strike a chord with how she currently felt.

_Say something I'm giving up on you...I'll be the one if you want me too... Anything, I would have followed you...you're the one that I want but I'm saying goodbye_

Oh my God, she thought, that's it, that's what I need to say, he needs to know that I'm saying goodbye. She drank another big gulp of wine, wondering where that glass had gone before pouring herself another.

She grabbed her laptop from the side of the settee, startling Toby as she nearly fell on him.

She drank more wine as the laptop opened up, pressing repeat on her iPod so she could hear the song again. Soon she was busy writing a quick email before attaching the song and pressing send.

There she thought, it's done.

**Oh dear poor Molly, is drunk** **dialling or emailing ever a good thing? **

**I'll aim to post twice a week all I ask of you guys if that you review, follow or favourite. Let me know you are out there and wanting more.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, so much positive response to my first chapter. Thank you to each and every one of you that took the time to give feedback. I hope this second chapter continues to meet with your approval.**

**Normal disclaimers apply. And be warned here there lies smut.**

**Chapter 2**

When John arrived at Baker St., the next day, Sherlock was still in his pyjamas lying on the settee.

'Do you ever get dressed nowadays?'

'No need, no cases, I'm bored. There's no point being dressed if I'm bored. Find me a case, anything.'

John made his way over to Sherlock's laptop switching it on before making his way through to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

'What about the case of the Red Headed League that Lestrade asked you to look at on Monday?'

'Dull, dull, dull, solved it before Lestrade had even finished giving me the details. There must be some good murders somewhere, find me one and if you can't find me one find me some cigarettes. I've had enough with these nicotine patches.'

John came back through carrying two mugs of tea and dumped one on the table in front of Sherlock, 'you know maybe if you looked for your own cases it would pass the time, ease the boredom somewhat...and Elizabeth is fine, thanks for asking!'

'Elizabeth...who's Elizabeth? Oh, the baby. Well I assumed that as you are here with me and not there with her everything must be fine. Why would I need to ask when I know? God social conventions are so tedious, so boring.' He swept his dressing gown over himself and rolled away from John to face the wall.

John sighed as he signed into Sherlock's e-mail account, deleting the junk and the troll emails, filtering out those that appeared more interesting so he could read them out to Sherlock. Honestly Sherlock hadn't even looked at his account since the last time he had been here.

'Oh, there's one from Molly...does she often e-mail you? No, of course she doesn't, I'd know if she did seeing as I'm the only one who ever bloody well opens this account. She's sent you an attachment and written...Sherlock, this is just how I feel, please listen, Molly...Hmm, bit unusual.' He clicked on the link.

As the sounds of a piano started to fill the room Sherlock twisted his head round to look at the laptop frowning. A lone, male voice started to sing the words that Molly had heard the night before.

John and Sherlock were both silent as they listened to the haunting melody and the words imploring Sherlock to do something, say something.

By the time it had come to a close Sherlock was facing the back of the settee again. John sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face, 'oh wow, mate, what are you going to do?'

'Do, do about what John? She clearly had too much to drink last night, got maudlin and sent me some random sentimental rubbish, what exactly would you have me **do**? Rush down there with a bunch of flowers and a rainbow in my back pocket and sweep her off her feet! I'm going to **do** nothing. She'll wake up hung over and embarrassed and won't thank me for mentioning it to her.'

'But what if that's how she really feels? Do you have any feelings for her...in that way? Have you ever had feelings for anyone in that way?'

Sherlock was silent for a moment before replying. 'It doesn't really matter whether or not I have feelings for Molly. The important thing is I have no intention of doing anything.'

John's mouth dropped open, 'so you do have feelings for her?'

Sherlock huffed and sat up. He ruffled his hair in frustration, 'did you not just hear me?'

'I did, but I don't get it. If you like her why wouldn't you want to pursue it.'

'Because I'm not like you John, I don't just pursue anything that moves. It's not important, this is important,' he pointed to his head, 'my work is important, feelings...feelings are a distraction...feelings are not important.'

'Well, they might not be to you, but they obviously are to Molly. What if she meets someone else? How would you 'feel' then?' He put air quotes round the word to emphasise it to his irritatingly obstinate friend.

'Irrelevant, Molly has dated plenty of men since I've known her and she's still here isn't she.' He said it with all the finality of a statement rather than a question.

'But what if she left? Left Bart's, left London? What then?'

'Pffft she wouldn't.'

'She might, you need to think about this Sherlock because once she's gone you might never get her back again.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly did indeed wake up hung over but not initially embarrassed. She padded through to her kitchen desperate for some paracetamol and water followed by a nice hot, cup of coffee. She groaned as she waited for the kettle, eyeing the empty bottle on the side. She really, really needed to stop drinking so much.

She poured the coffee and made her way into the dishevelled front room to put the breakfast news on. It was only as she flopped down onto the settee that she noticed the laptop was on the coffee table, open and switched on. She frowned as she reached forward to switch it off before she gasped in horror, memories from the night before rushing back to her, _nonononononono. _Surely she hadn't, please say that she hadn't.

She opened up her email account and clicked on sent items, holding her breath as she did...oh god she had, she'd sent some sappy song to Sherlock telling him how she felt about him. She was never going to be able to face him again.

Maybe she wouldn't have to, she sighed with relief as she opened up the new email from Mike telling her the secondment had been approved and she would be starting at Charing Cross on Monday.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

John had left an hour earlier. They'd spent the remainder of his time going through the rest of Sherlock's emails. Most were a waste of time but two had been invited to Baker St. the next day to put their cases to John and Sherlock in person. Sherlock didn't hold out much hope for either of them being interesting though, they just seemed slightly less boring than the rest.

He had finally got dressed and was sitting in his arm chair plucking on his violin, lost in thought. Thoughts which kept coming back to Molly and that song.

He hadn't let on to John but it had affected him much more than he'd said. Would she ever leave him and how would he actually feel about that? He closed his eyes trying to imagine his life without her in it. He'd be fine wouldn't he? He'd lived his life without her, before he'd met her...he just couldn't picture it though. It seemed empty without her.

He thought of the morgue without her incites, her deft hand slicing through the cadavers with unflinching experience. He loved watching her conduct autopsies, she was always so confident, so in control.

He thought of the lab, their companionable silences, shared jokes, the coffee, listening to her opinions of his work, always knowledgeable, sharing his interests. They had so much more in common that even he and John.

So, no he couldn't imagine his life without her in it, didn't want to... but that didn't necessarily mean he wanted to pursue a physical relationship. How could he, he had no idea how to even start something?

A small voice in his head told him he was lying and he knew it. After all he'd started something with Janine. It didn't matter that it was for a case, he'd known how to ask her out, how to go on dates, how to kiss her. He grimaced as he remembered kissing Janine. It had been horrible, intrusive and seemingly endless. Why would he want to do that with Molly, how would it be any different?

He found Molly's room in his mind palace and walked it. For the first time he actively noticed how his breathing shallowed out, his body relaxed as he entered. She calmed him, he felt safe and comfortable here. He used the room to recall her scent, the sound of her voice. He tried to think about how it made him feel. It was hard; trying to think about feelings did not come naturally to him. He would normally ignore them, lock them away rather than try to find them.

He stood in Molly's room, inside his head, and imagined himself kissing her. Her face came to him easily, hair up in her normal ponytail. She looked up at him eagerly, smiling; she was always smiling in his memory. He put his hands on her face imagining the feel of her soft skin under his palms and he leant in to kiss her. As his lips touched hers he felt his heart rate pick up, could feel his pulse beating, he felt warmer.

The kiss deepened quicker than he had thought it would he knew his breathe was shallower, he wanted this, wanted her. His tongue dove into her mouth, tasting her...but no. He opened his eyes, flung from his mind palace. He wanted to taste her, but he didn't know what she tasted of, there was no knowledge there; it was blank.

He sat up in his chair, the violin forgotten at the side. It was only as he sat up that he realised he had an erection, not just that but he was painfully hard. His mouth opened in shock, he occasionally woke up with an erection but couldn't remember the last time he'd got one during the day and never from being in his mind palace.

He settled back in his chair waiting for it to go down. He concentrated on his breathing, trying to calm his body but every time he closed his eyes he saw Molly again, saw himself kissing her all over again. After fifteen minutes he banged the arm of the chair in frustration and wondered what he should do, it wasn't going to go away by itself, if anything it was getting worse, and he didn't want to have to shower. He huffed in frustration before standing to lock his flat door, it really wouldn't do for anyone to walk in on him.

He unbuttoned himself from his trousers and sat back down in his chair. He closed his eyes, trying not to think too much about what he was about to do. He made his way back to Molly's room. She was there waiting for him. This time she was lying on his bed, how had his bed got into her room? He ignored that thought and walked towards her. She was still in her lab coat, bare legs tucked underneath her as she sat waiting for him.

As he got closer he gasped as he realised she was only wearing a lab coat and nothing else. He reached for himself, sliding his hand down his shaft hissing at the sensation. In his mind he reached for her, he sat beside her, his hand on her neck brushing the hair away. It wasn't in a ponytail now but was loose around her shoulders.

He unbuttoned her coat as his hand gripped his hard-on, he felt his hips buck upwards desperate for more friction and movement so he started to slide his hand up and down, stroking himself.

Her skin was soft and creamy as one by one he popped the buttons. The coat slipped from her shoulders pooling at her waist leaving her breasts bare to him. He recalled once commenting on their size and felt confusion, how had he ever thought they were anything other than perfect. He palmed them both as his hips moved in time with his hand. He was panting now, eyes scrunched shut, hand tightening and pumping faster.

He sucked her nipple into his mouth and listened to her moaning her approval. He pushed her backwards so she fell onto the bed and he moved above her finding himself naked. She was wet for him and he pushed into her feeling her warmth feeling his orgasm building fast.

He was oblivious to everything else apart from the needs of his own traitorous body, the body he'd always tried to think of in terms of transport, it was transport no more. He came, catching his excretion in tissues which he threw onto the fire in disgust.

He yelled in frustration and fell forward, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. What was he going to do now?

**Sherlock's turn to feel frustrated and confused. How will he deal with it? What do you think he should do?**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm so glad you all enjoyed the last chapter, our boy is getting affected and something has got to give. **

**Also, thank you for all your reviews, they really help to motivate me. I've been writing for less than a year and your positive comments and feedback really help. So thank you.**

**Chapter 3**

Molly hated being the new girl. It had all seemed exciting when she'd set off that morning with her head filled with thoughts of a fresh start but now she was here, reality was setting in and she wasn't so sure.

The staff were mostly all very polite and welcoming but they all knew each other and she didn't understand any of the in jokes, couldn't really join in with anecdotes from the weekend. She hated having to keep asking where things were kept, where she should put her bag and coat, what bay she should work from, where the paperwork was kept. She knew it would get better but right now she was missing her own much quieter morgue.

She wondered if Sherlock had even noticed she had gone and if he had whether he even cared. Who was she kidding the only think that would bother him about her absence would be concern over his ongoing access to lab equipment and body parts. She blushed, again, just thinking about that email. Unsurprisingly he hadn't responded, he had probably just grumbled about sentiment and deleted it.

If nothing else, thinking about him just reinforced why she were here suffering through first day blues. She wanted separation, she needed it.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock still hadn't quite decided what he wanted to do. He was coming round to the painful idea that maybe he needed to do something he just wasn't quite sure exactly what.

He had been honest with John, he wasn't going to rush in with hearts and flowers, that just wasn't ever going to be his style, but maybe they could do like Molly had suggested and go for coffee, take it slow. At least his head was saying take it slow...his body seemed to have other ideas. It was as though a crack had appeared in his careful cultivated walls and all his lusts and passions were leaking through. It had been two days since that humiliating moment in Baker St. where he'd found himself wanking off like a school boy but things had been getting progressively worse.

Both mornings since he'd woken up hard and knew he'd been dreaming of Molly, fleeting memories haunting him throughout the day. Where had this all even come from? That bloody song and conversation with John was to blame. Trouble was it seemed once out of the box these 'feelings' didn't want to go back in again, believe me he'd tried, he'd spent hours in his mind palace trying to delete them, and when that failed trying to store them far away, but all to no avail.

So here he was, standing outside the morgue at Bart's contemplating the best way to ask Molly out whilst hoping she would be kinder to him than he'd ever been to her.

He pushed the door open expecting to see her turn to look at him, hoping to see her bright, welcoming smile. Instead he saw Mike Stamford standing where Molly should be standing and he appeared to be half way through an autopsy.

'Morning Sherlock, here for anything in particular or just catching up with your tests?'

'Mike, no, no, nothing particular. Molly not in today?' He hoped he had said that in a nonchalant way, he didn't want to arouse any suspicions.

'Ah, yes well, I know you're not going to be happy Sherlock but Molly has left us...at least for the time being.'

'Left, what do you mean left? She can't leave. I need her here, you know she's the only one I can work with.'

'Now, come on you know that's not true, you worked with me for two years before Molly even started. She's following an opportunity in another hospital; it's a good career move for her. Don't you go messing it up.'

Sherlock sighed, spinning around pushing his hand over his face. He needed to see her...now. He'd finally built himself up to this and wanted to get it out if his system, not have to wait. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself.

'Which hospital?'

'Oh no, I'm not doing that Sherlock. You think I don't know you'll march down there and drag her out or humiliate her in some way. Just leave her be, it's not fair. You must know you're partly to blame for her going...if not fully to blame.'

Sherlock spun round hitting the doors so hard on the way out that they crashed noisily into the wall.

Mike sighed to himself turning back to the open body before him, 'well, that went better than I expected,' he said to no one in particular.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock walked aimlessly through the streets pondering what he should do next. He knew he could easily find out where Molly was working now; there weren't that many pathology units in London, particularly not ones that could offer Molly better work prospects. In fact he already had it narrowed down to three in his head. He could go to each one in turn until he found her. Mike's words echoed in his head though 'you're to blame for her going...' No, he needed to do this right and even he recognised that barging into her new place of work wouldn't be good.

He made his way back to Baker St. thinking as he went. In the end he texted John asking him to come over. He didn't like to think it but maybe he needed some expert advice.

When John arrived Sherlock was in his normal spot at the window playing his violin. The melody was haunting and familiar.

'Hang on, isn't that the song that Molly sent you the other day? I take it you were more affected than you let on. About time you admitted it. So what's up?'

'Firstly, I was not affected and secondly it is not 'about time I admitted it'.' This time it was Sherlock making air quotes as he scowled at John. 'Although I do, in fact, need help regarding Molly. She's left Bart's and I need to get her back.'

'Oh no,' said John holding his hands up, 'if she's finally come to her senses and put some space between the two of you I am not helping you to draw her back in just so you can use her some more. That poor girl has been through enough.'

Sherlock shifted nervously, 'and what if I didn't want to use her? What if I did genuinely have...feelings...what then?' He kept his gaze anywhere but at John but he could hear the incredulity in John's voice.

'You...feelings...haven't you just been telling me you don't have any, that you aren't affected. You had better not being playing some trick just to get her back to Bart's because that would be beyond cruel.'

'No John, I'm not playing a trick. I...I believe I would like something more from my relationship with Molly. I went to tell her and found out she'd left Bart's to work in another hospital. I've already found out which but am not sure whether approaching her at work is the right thing to do, hence texting you. So, what should I do?'

'Wow,' John sat down heavily in his seat, 'so you mean you really do like her. You know you need to be sure, you can't mess her about.'

Sherlock scowled but sat down opposite John steepling his hands and landing his gaze on his best friend. 'I'm sure. So what now?'

John rubbed his hands over his face, 'well, let's keep it simple, you need to just tell her. Not at work though, that wouldn't be good. Just sit her down over coffee and be honest. That's all you can do.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It had been a long day and Molly was so looking forward to a leisurely soak in the bath. At least she'd survived day one, just six more months to go.

She kicked off her shoes as soon as she got home and put some food down for Toby to shut him up and stop him winding dangerously around her ankles. Her hand hovered over the wine bottle but she shook her head _new start remember_ and switched on the kettle instead.

She pulled her hair out of its ponytail rubbing at her scalp as she did, walking into the front room to check the news whilst the kettle was boiling. Before she could pu the TV on though there was a knock at the door. She sighed wondering who it could possibly be.

She made her way down the short corridor and opened the door to be confronted by Sherlock Holmes bearing two take away coffee cups. He smiled and held one out to her, 'coffee Molly!'

**I'll aim to post chapter four on Sunday so keep your eyes peeled for it, or better still follow so you get an alert. As ever let me know what you think.**


	4. Chapter 4

**For some reason this chapters came out a bit short, hopefully short and sweet but that's for you guys to decide. Wishing Ben luck for tonight at the Oscars although I suspect he'll need more than luck to win this year. I'm sure it won't be his last nomination though.**

**Normal disclaimers apply, I owe nothing.**

**Chapter 4**

Molly couldn't believe his nerve. She'd gone to all this trouble to get away from him only for him to turn up on her doorstep. She futilely tried closing the door but he was too quick, his foot jamming between the door and the frame.

'Ow, Molly please, just hear me out...please.'

She closed her eyes and sighed before opening the door and letting him past, following him into her own front room.

He spun round holding out the coffee cup for a second time. She noted the name on the cup, Criterion, no Starbucks or Costa for Sherlock Holmes, it was probably a trade name from Harrods or Selfridges, or somewhere equally exclusive.

She took it, 'thank you...I think...now why are you here? If it's to try to get me to come back to Bart's you needn't worry it's only temporary. I'm sure you'll be fine with Mike whilst I'm away.'

'I'm sure I will, that's not why I'm here though. Can I...can we sit down?'

She sighed again and sat on the edge of the settee. She was quite surprised when he removed his coat and then sat beside her. She had fully expected him to sit in the chair opposite. She turned to face him, she rarely looked him full in the face, it was almost too much, she would get caught by his eyes, or lose her train of thought watching his lips move. She ached to brush her fingertips across his cheekbones or along his jaw and she blushed knowing he had probably deduced everything she was thinking, so she didn't normally look.

She did today though and was surprised to see he looked nervous. His eyes were flicking around the apartment, he was biting his lush lower lip and there was a faint blush on his cheek bones.

She reached her hand out but pulled it back before she touched him, she knew he didn't like being touched, 'are you OK Sherlock, you seem...nervous?'

His eyes had flicked to her hand before moving to her face. She was smiling at him shyly.

'I...I've been thinking about that song.'

'Which song...oh...oh...that song? I am so sorry Sherlock, I was drunk it was just a moment of...'

'Yes, yes I know that but it made me think anyway and you're right I should say something. So here I am with that coffee that you wanted.'

'Coffee?'

'Yes, in the lab, last week, you asked me out for coffee. I was...I was an idiot, I should have said yes.'

'Oh...so like...a date coffee.'

'Yes, Molly, like a date coffee.'

She took a moment to sip the drink, it really was very good. Her mind was spinning, she couldn't quite believe that Sherlock wanted a date with her. It seemed too good to be true...which meant maybe it was.

'If this is all some scheme to get me to come back to Bart's or give you body parts...'

'Oh God not you as well, John was just as bad. Maybe I haven't made myself clear Molly, I have, and believe me I'm sure I won't say this to you as often as I should, I have feelings for you. Feelings I...yes feelings I wish to act on.' As he spoke he plucked the coffee cup from her hand placing it on the table next to his own. He turned back and placed his hands on either side of her face, 'and right now I would like to kiss you, if you'll let me.'

Molly just had time for a quick 'oh' before he pressed his lips against hers. She was so shocked that she didn't react to the kiss straight away. He pulled back, 'I was hoping for a little interaction rather than this just being a solo activity.' He smirked before closing in slower this time, as though not to spook her. This time she closed her eyes and when his lips met hers she moved with him her hands initially sliding up to hold onto his lapels.

It quickly escalated though and she could feel all those pent up feelings for him bursting out of her. He tilted her head, both their mouths opening to each other and then his tongue was in her mouth. Molly felt hot and dizzy, blood was rushing south and she didn't want this, whatever this was, to end.

He pulled her closer leaning over her more so her chest was pushed against his, her hands slid round his back feeling his muscles moving under her fingers. One hand moved to his neck and then into his hair. God he was amazing, she would never get enough of this.

Eventually he broke off panting, leaning his forehead against hers. 'Maybe, I should go. I..don't want to push things too far, too fast.'

'Oh...OK,' Molly couldn't help but feel a bit rejected, had he changed his mind after kissing her, was she not good enough, not what he'd expected.

'Maybe I could come back tomorrow night; I could pick us up a take away and stay a bit longer?'

'Yes, I'd like that.'

'Good,' with that he pulled her back in for another kiss just as searing as the first. Molly wondered if it were possible to orgasm from kissing alone, she felt as though she were squirming in her seat. Part of her wanting to move to his lap, straddle him, push things further, but she was still somewhat in shock at the change and she was conscious she didn't want to scare him off.

When they broke off the second time Sherlock stood quickly, gathering up his coat, 'until tomorrow then. Goodnight Molly, I'll let myself out.'

He left before she could even stand up although she wasn't even sure she could stand up, her legs felt like rubber. It was ten minutes later before she made her way through to the bathroom and when she was lying in her bath all she could think about was Sherlock.

She touched her hand to her lips remembering the feel of his mouth on hers, his hand on her face and on her back pulling her in close. He was a hot kisser, that had definitely not been his first kiss. She was already hoping for more of the same the next night and was counting down the hours. She tried not to think of why he was doing this or whether his feelings were real.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock closed the door behind him before putting his coat on. He hoped that Molly hadn't noticed him using it to cover up his erection. He had desperately wanted to stay longer but the gentleman in him was telling him to take it slowly and not push things too fast. Plus it had been years since he had been this physical with anyone (Janine most definitely didn't count) and he needed some time to process everything.

He hailed a cab and was glad of the silence as he made his way back home. As he mounted the stairs to his flat he received a text message from John.

_How did it go? Or is it still going? Mary says have you got protection? Sorry, she made me write that. J_

He sent off a quick reply.

_All went well. __Seeing her again tomorrow. __Tell Mary protection is none of her business! SH_

He changed into his pyjamas and dressing gown before throwing himself on the settee. Just as he drifted into his mind palace he recalled the moment he'd kissed Molly and she'd responded. The reality had been so much better than he had imagined and he could now add the taste of her to her room in his mind palace.

**So, our Molly was definitely kinder to him that maybe she should have been. I know some of you wanted to suffer but that's not what came out and I tend to go with the flow.**

**It will probably be Friday before I can post again, back to work tomorrow. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Here I am back again with a new chapter. Here's hoping you all have a fantastic weekend wherever you are in the world. I am always blown away when I look at the breakdown of readers as to just how global the Sherlolly community is.**

**As ever thank you all for your comments and support. But enough from me, on with the story.**

**Chapter 5**

Molly was counting down the minutes until her shift ended. Tonight was her first 'date', if she could call it that, with Sherlock. She couldn't quite see him as boyfriend material, it seemed such a juvenile term when you were in your thirties. At some point she needed to talk through what they were but not tonight. Tonight she just wanted to enjoy spending time with him that wasn't over a dead body. She was really hoping for more kissing as well, she'd barely slept last night for thinking of it.

If she'd still been at Bart's she would have asked Mike if she could leave early so she could get ready but it was day two of a new job and she just couldn't be that cheeky.

Plus she already didn't feel like the job was going well. The only other female pathologist had took an immediate dislike to her, belittled her work and generally just made her feel unwelcome.

She didn't want to tell tales this early on but she knew she'd have to approach HR if it continued. Maybe she should have just stayed where she was. The whole idea of moving, to get away from Sherlock, would be futile if she actually started seeing him and therefore not needing to avoid him at work. She keep repeating _it'll be good for my career_ over and over in her head as she worked.

It was with relief then that she finally left work and made her way back to her flat. She picked up a bottle of wine on the way. She initially wondered whether Sherlock drank at all but then remembered helping him work out his tolerance levels for John's stag do. From what she'd heard John had spiked their drinks and it had all gone downhill from there. Greg had laughingly told her he'd had to help get them released from an overnight stay in jail. She wished she'd been a fly on the wall for that one.

She got home with barely half an hour to spare, just enough time to jump in the shower and get changed.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock initially rang the doorbell of Molly's flat but when there was no answer he put his ear to the door. He could just about hear her shower running and glancing at his watch he realised he was 20 minutes early. He huffed to himself and retrieved his lock picking kit from his inside pocket. There was no way he was hanging about in a corridor waiting.

It turned out that Molly's lock was pitifully easy to pick, he would need to have that fixed. It took him less than a minute before he was strolling in. He hung his coat up and dumped the bag of Chinese food on the table before wandering around Molly's flat examining and deducing at the same time.

He was pleasantly surprised by her taste in music, from the CDs lines up near the stereo. Her books were a bit more eclectic, medical textbooks mixed in with murder mysteries and classics. He raised an eyebrow at a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey, even Sherlock had heard of that one.

He was trying to ignore the sounds coming from the bathroom and the fact that Molly was in there naked. A minute or so later the water was turned off and Molly appeared in the corridor wrapped in nothing but a towel, hair wrapped up separately turban style. She started a little with shock when she saw him but recovered quickly.

'Oh, you're early. I didn't hear the door...hang on how did you get in.'

'Yes, we need to talk about your lock but not now hmm.' Sherlock was mesmerised, watching the beads of water sliding down her neck, off her shoulders, down her legs. He was tempted to try to lick each one off her.

Molly took one look at Sherlock's face and felt heat pool low in her belly. He strode quickly to her bending to capture her lips, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her to him. He knew his suit was getting wet but he didn't care, he had plenty of suits.

Molly melted against him her hands on his shoulders for balance until they fell back against the wall. She could feel Sherlock pressed up against her and the fact that he was fully dressed and she was nearly naked just made her feel even more aroused.

Sherlock broke off the kiss and moved his lips to her neck tasting her skin and the shower water. As he licked up the length of her neck Molly closed her eyes and moaned and he swore that moan reverberated through his entire body. He could feel himself getting harder and he knew if he didn't stop now, given her current state of undress, there was a high chance they wouldn't stop at all and he wasn't sure he was ready for that level of intimacy yet.

He stepped back quickly and in doing so nearly stripped her naked as her towel came loose and almost fell. Molly just managed to catch it before too much was revealed but Sherlock knew his eyes were not looking at her face.

He turned away, 'I'm sorry Molly, that was impolite of me. If you want to get dressed I'll find some plates and we can eat.'

Molly giggled at his formality, 'you can be impolite like that whenever you want Sherlock, but yes I think I'll find something a little more appropriate to wear.'

Ten minutes later they were sat at Molly's small kitchen table eating Chinese and sipping wine whilst discussing a paper Molly had recently read on decomposition of blood. It all just felt very natural and comfortable between them, no awkward silences, no false laughter or stilted questions. As first dates went Molly was pleasantly surprised.

When they had finished eating they moved to the front room to carry on the conversation. Sherlock went to the stereo choosing one of the CDs before turning it on. Music filled the room and Molly smiled, it was Mozart, one of her dad's favourites, it always reminded her of him when she heard it.

When Sherlock turned back he narrowed his eyes, 'it was obviously a favourite from it's position, plus the case is worn where it has been repeatedly opened. I can see from your face it evokes memories that are both painful and happy, I would deduce therefore, seeing as I know your father is dead and that you were close to him before he died, that this music was a favourite of his?'

Molly nodded, tears glistening in her eyes, 'yes, you got it all right.'

He nodded to himself smiling happily. Molly knew he loved deducing, loved knowing he'd got something right.

Just as they had the night before they sat together on the settee but this time it was Molly who initiated the kiss. She just couldn't wait any longer and it was so good not having to keep her distance from him. She wanted to explore and touch every inch of him. She had been dreaming and fantasising for years and now she actually had a chance to try out the reality. She could hardly believe it.

Her hands gripped his face, thumbs sliding across his cheekbones. He tasted like wine and she slid her tongue into his mouth. He leant back on the settee pulling Molly with him until she was straddling his hips her hair falling round them tickling his neck.

His hands were on her back but he soon moved them underneath her top. The skin of her back was smooth and he quickly realised she wasn't wearing a bra. He brought one hand forward until he was holding her breast feeling the weight of it, the softness of the skin juxtaposed with the hardening of her nipple. He had a sudden craving to feel that nipple in his mouth to suck on her breast grazing his teeth across her.

She was addictive. He moved to unbutton her shirt as Molly ground her hips against him, pressing herself onto his erection. He groaned, his head falling back breaking the kiss. The sensations were overwhelming him. His mind was so used to gathering information but this was too much, too soon.

Molly's mouth was on his neck now, her hands undoing his shirt pulling it open. Then she was biting his nipple and he heard himself groaning again, his hips bucking up against hers. He needed to regain some control, his head was spinning. He gripped Molly's arms pulling her up and away from him, sitting himself more upright. 'Molly, please...just...hold on...I need to breath.'

Molly seemed to realise that something was wrong and slid off his lap, 'are you OK? What's wrong? Do you need some water?'

She was asking too many questions, he put up his hand 'shut up just shut up.' Molly fell silent and Sherlock sat with his fingers on his temples concentrating on his breath going in and out of his body. A second later he heard a clunk as a glass was put down on the coffee table and he felt the settee move beside him as Molly sat down.

It took him a couple more minutes before he opened his eyes again and looked round to find Molly watching him nervously. She had buttoned her top back up and was sat with her feet tucked under her body, chewing on her bottom lip.

'I...I'm sorry Molly, it was just too much stimulation. My mind couldn't keep up.'

She took a breath and looked away, 'do you...do you want to stop what we're doing? This?' She gestured with her hands that she meant the two of them.

'No, absolutely not. I just need some time. It's been years since I've been physical with anyone and even then I was high on drugs and...and I was never emotionally invested. I do want you...I just...can we take it slow?'

Molly's face lit up as he spoke. She'd obviously thought he was going to finish things. 'We can go as slow as you like Sherlock. I'm not going anywhere.'

**Next chapter should be posted Sunday and for those wondering there will be a crime woven into this story and I want to explore their relationship beyond the immediate getting together so we've got quite a way to go. Hope that's OK with you guys, as ever let me know.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Here we are as promised. Soooo, I know I implied slow burn in the last chapter but what can I say Sherlock is nothing if not fickle.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 6**

In the end it was Sherlock who disappeared...for four days! Molly alternated between worry and anger.

Of course she tried texting him, initially wondering if he was avoiding her, if the thought of being intimate with her was all too much for him. In the end exasperated she had texted John to see if he knew where Sherlock was and if he was OK, only to get a response from him ten minutes later.

_Hi Molly. Don't worry we're in Leicester on case. Should be back in two days. Is it urgent? Do you need me to get him to ring you? John x_

She'd thanked him and replied that it wasn't urgent. She didn't know whether John knew they were together, hell, she didn't even know what they were herself. She just wished he had sent her one text or called or something so she hadn't been worrying about him.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

John, meanwhile, raised the subject straight away with Sherlock.

'So, have you told Molly where we are?'

'Molly, why would I tell Molly?' Sherlock didn't even look up from the police file that he was scouring through for information.

'Well, I got the impression, from you, that the two of you were in some kind of relationship now. It is normal, when you're in a relationship, to communicate with the other person. You know, let them know where you are and whether you're OK.'

'That makes no sense, I'd have to talk to her constantly to give her that kind of information. She knows I'm OK, she'd soon hear if I wasn't from the press, or at worst Mycroft.'

John closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation. 'Maybe Sherlock, just maybe she doesn't want to rely on the papers and TV for an update about her boyfriend.'

Sherlock finally looked up, grimacing, at that remark. 'I am not her boyfriend.' He almost spat the word out.

'So what are you then?' Said John crossing his arms and staring Sherlock down.

'I'm...we're...I...we're just together. That's all! Now can we please get back to this case, the quicker we solve it the quicker we can get back to London.'

'Fine, but just text her, OK. She cares about you and it's not fair to leave her worrying.'

Molly received her text a few minutes later.

_Am fine. Will see you on my return. SH_

Molly rolled her eyes, not overboard on levels of information but at least he had finally texted, no doubt with prompting from John.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

John had been right, it was exactly two days later when they returned to London. Molly was at work when the text came through.

_Come to Baker St after work. SH_

As she checked the text she heard a tutting noise from across the room. She looked up to find Tania staring at her and shaking her head. Molly blushed in embarassment at being caught looking at her phone and looked back down at the paperwork she was completing. Tania was making her life a misery at the moment. Trouble was there was nothing concrete that she could take to her boss or HR. It was all low level stuff. Plus it didn't help that Tania was really pally with their boss, they were always lunching together, going for drinks after work. In fact the whole team did that, not that they ever invited Molly. Molly knew that was down to Tania but again she had no proof.

She just needed to keep her head down and do her job to the best of her ability. It was demoralising though, she'd always enjoyed her work and this made her working day drag by. But at least she had tonight to look forward to now.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

When she finally got to Baker St. it was dark. She stepped out of the cab looking up at the light shining welcomingly through the curtains. She ran through the drizzle and knocked quickly on the door.

Mrs Hudson answered, 'oh hello Molly dear, are you here to see Sherlock? He's upstairs, go on up.'

She made her way up hearing violin music as she did. She loved hearing him play, which wasn't often. The last time she'd heard him had been at John and Mary's wedding and it had brought tears to her eyes. She hesitated outside the door, not wanting him to stop. She should have known that wouldn't work.

The playing stopped as he called out to her, 'Molly, why on earth are you hovering out there, come in.'

She rolled her eyes and entered, 'I was listening to you playing, I didn't want you to stop.'

'Well, why didn't you just say so?' He turned away from her, facing the fire and resumed his playing.

Molly took her coat off enjoying the warmth of the flat after a day in a chilly morgue. She made her way through to the kitchen to make a cuppa whilst she listened to the music. It wasn't anything she'd heard before and she wondered if it was his own composition.

As she came back through, with two cups of tea, to the front room the music changed morphing into a song which seemed familiar. She suddenly recognised it as the song she'd sent him that drunken night a couple of weeks ago. She blushed at the memory, Sherlock turned to face her, still playing, a smile on his face, watching her reactions. Then it changed again, now he was playing Mozart, her dad's favourite music.

She sat in John's armchair in complete awe of his talent. Eventually he brought the music to an end, placing the violin down on its stand and sitting down opposite her before picking up his cup of tea.

'Thank you Sherlock, that was...well, it was beautiful.'

They sat and drank their tea in silence for a few minutes. 'How was the case?' Molly asked eventually.

Sherlock grinned joyfully, 'oh, you would have enjoyed this one!' And he launched into a breakneck tale of a man being wrongly convicted for the murder of his father, how all the evidence had pointed to his guilt but how Sherlock had known and eventually proved his innocence.

Molly watched him talking and gesticulating, transporting her into the case and all his thought processes as they'd gone through it. She had originally planned to berate him for not letting her know where he had been but he seemed so happy and animated she didn't want to break his mood.

When he finally finished she stood up and moved to sit on his lap, 'I missed you,' she said simply looking down at him. He brought his arm up to her waist to hold her there.

'I missed you too,' he frowned for a second looking down before looking back up at her, 'John tells me I should have told you I was going away. I...I apologise Molly if I worried you. I will endeavour to let you know next time.'

'Good, thank you. That would be...better.' She smiled and then leant forward to kiss him.

As ever, the kiss took her breath away. It was as though the world around them faded and all there was was Sherlock, his lips on hers, his hands on her skin. She was careful not to escalate things or push him too far, she didn't want to move faster than he was ready for. She let him set the pace.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock felt much more relaxed this time as the kiss deepened and his hands explored her body. Maybe it had been the days that they had spent apart or the high that came with solving the case but all he wanted was to be here, in this moment, with her.

He could hear the rain picking up pace outside the window, the crackle of the open fire in the hearth, the sounds of her slight moans as his tongue explored her mouth.

He could smell the fire, the tea they'd just drunk, the scent of Molly's perfume which she'd used to try and mask the scent of the morgue. The smell of the dead didn't bother him in the way in might others. It reminded him of her, of his life, the life he had almost lost so many times. And more often than not it had been Molly who had helped to save him. No, her scent was only ever a positive to him. He could just make out the tangy smell of her arousal and he found himself reacting to it both physically and mentally. He wanted her, right here, right now. They had time, no interruptions due, he could go at his own pace but it would be tonight.

**So Sherlock's ready and we end on a sexy cliffhanger. I feel I ought to apologise but I'm not gonna ;-). Let me know your thoughts and feelings though.**

**Next update will be Thursday or Friday depending on how busy I am at work this week, let's hope for a quiet week!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well it's been a manic week work wise so apologies for not getting this chapter up yesterday. Hope it's been worth the wait though.**

**Chapter 7**

Molly felt as though she had been kissing Sherlock all her life and it still wasn't enough. In reality she had been sat on his knee for about ten minutes enjoying the feel of his mouth moving against hers, his tongue vying with hers.

It was only when she felt his hand on her breast that she realised he had unbuttoned her blouse. He had quickly found the front fastener of her bra uncoupling it and then his palm was on her skin sending tingles all along her nerves, most of which seemed to lead down into her groin.

He kneaded her breast his thumb sliding over her hardened nipple. He broke off from kissing her mouth to kiss his way down to her chest leaning over her to suck and bite her nipple, his hand holding her body to him. She moaned at the feel, her eyes closed, her hands threading into his hair holding him in place.

When he had finished he looked up at her with eyes so filled with lust she felt the breath catch in her throat.

He stood them both up momentarily whilst he threw a blanket from the settee onto the floor, in front of the fire, between the chairs they'd just been sat in.

He sat down on the blanket gesturing for Molly to do the same.

This time when they kissed she fell back to the floor pulling Sherlock with her. He covered her body with his own their legs tangling together. He pressed himself against her and she could feel his hardness. She reacted without thinking, opening her legs allowing him to shift position so he was pressed against her centre.

She pulled his shirt out from his trousers so her hands could explore his back feeling the slight marks and raised skin from injuries he'd received over the years.

He moved his head so he could kiss down her neck making his way back to her breasts. Molly gasped as he bit lightly on her nipple; her eyes were open watching the shadows of the flames as they danced on the ceiling. She wanted him so much but didn't want to scare him away. Instead she held onto his head as he moved against her breast, pulling lightly on his hair and scraping his scalp, listening to him growl as she did.

He suddenly knelt up leaving Molly feeling cold as he blocked the heat from the fire. Her heart sank as she wondered whether he was having second thoughts again but then lifted as she saw he was unbuttoning his shirt before pulling it off over his head when he got frustrated with the buttons.

Her gaze travelled hungrily over the skin of his chest pausing momentarily at the scar from his shooting the year before. She closed her eyes briefly as she thought about how close they had come to saying goodbye and losing him, how she might never have been here with him right now.

When she opened them again he was unbuttoning his trousers. She swallowed before talking, 'are you sure?'

When he spoke his voice seemed lower, rougher than normal, 'I've never been surer Molly. I want you, I need you...will you have me?'

'Yes, always, yes.' She undid her own trousers and shimmied out of them until she was lying naked before him. She suddenly felt self-conscious as he looked down at her. She knew how he worked, she knew how much he saw that others didn't and she wondered what he was seeing right now as he looked at her.

He put his hand on her thigh sliding it slowly across her skin leaving a trail of goose bumps behind.

As he leant over her once more she saw how vulnerable and almost scared he appeared. She realised that in this whilst she might not have the most experience she definitely had the most recent experience. She put her hands around his back pulling him to her, opening herself for him so he was rested against her centre.

'Let's just take it slow, hey, no rush...we have all night.' She reached up to kiss him feeling him rut against her, her own desire building once more.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock had never seen Molly look so beautiful as she did splayed out, naked on his carpet, the glow from the fire lighting up her body. Her hair was down around her shoulders and her skin looked like alabaster. He gazed down at her noticing every freckle, every mole, a scar on her stomach, presumably from an appendix operation many years ago, redness around one nipple where he'd sucked it into his mouth just a few moments ago.

He catalogued his own reactions as well, could tell his pulse was elevated, his mouth was dry with nerves, he could feel blood pumping into his manhood and for the first time in years he actively wanted to have sex with someone. He wanted to know how it would feel to be inside Molly, how warm and wet would she be for him. Most of his previous experiences were either drug addled or deleted. This would be the first time he wanted to know exactly what he was doing with every intention of keeping the data.

He was also nervous, he didn't want to be a disappointment, didn't want things to end too quickly. He was also worried he would become overwhelmed with sensation.

Molly obviously sensed his concerns as she reassured him they could go slow. He sank back into her arms kissing her once more finding himself pushing against her instinctively.

In the end he figured he needed to do less thinking and more action so he pushed up on one arm and used his hand to position himself at her entrance before he pushed slowly in. Yes, he knew he should maybe have engaged in more foreplay first but there would be plenty of opportunity for that next time. This time he just needed to be in her, to feel her, to break past that barrier in his head that was still saying that this could be a mistake. Oh...she was so warm, so tight but slick with desire...for him. He closed his eyes, his forehead pressed up against Molly's. As soon as he was fully sheathed inside her he stilled letting his mind catalogue everything before he continued.

Once he felt ready to he withdrew before slowly sliding back in. Molly moaned and grappled at his backside pulling him into her deeper. He looked down into her eyes seeing her pupils blown almost to the point of blackness, then they were kissing again and any caution was forgotten. Sherlock pulled back and slammed back into her and she threw her head back as she cried out, 'oh God, yes...' He thrust into her again and again pulling her leg up higher so he could find that sweet spot inside her that would have her screaming his name.

He knew he couldn't last much longer himself not after so many years abstinence but he was desperate for her to have her release before him. He used one hand to pull at her breast, pinching her nipple as he kissed her once more, his tongue as deep in her mouth as his cock was inside her. He could feel her muscles clench around him as she pulled away from the kiss and cried out his name with her orgasm. It was the sweetest sound in the world. He would never tire of hearing her cry out his name like that, and it was that that sent him over the edge. He reared back thrusting deep inside her as he came with an inarticulate yell.

He fell forward breathing hard trying to hold his full weight off her small frame. He kissed her quickly before withdrawing and falling to her side keeping one arm across her stomach and one leg over hers. 'God, Molly that was amazing. Why did I wait so long?'

Molly giggled as she drew patterns on the arm he'd left lying across her stomach, 'I don't know Sherlock, but I hope you're not going to wait as long the second time round.'

He smiled and looked across at her, 'no, definitely not, I might need an hour or so though to recover.'

In the end he got them each one of his dressing gowns and they sat together watching the flames, drinking wine and talking comfortably until the fire started to die.

Sherlock leant forward and kissed Molly's neck, 'I think Doctor Hooper it's about time I took you to bed properly.' With that he stood up gracefully extending one hand to her. She smiled shyly and took it standing up herself and following him through to his bedroom.

**So on re-reading I've pretty much just written a whole chapter of sex. Hope that was OK, I promise I'll move the story on a bit further next time. **

**On that note the next chapter will be posted Sunday, in the meantime, review, review, review.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Glad you all approved of the 'purely sex' chapter and thank you for your reviews and follows and favourites.**

**So for this story I did look up Pathology units in London and there is a large one based at Charing Cross. However, I have no idea where Scotland Yard would send their cases to or why so that element of this fic is completely my own. As for everything else, I own nothing I just wish I did.**

**Chapter 8**

When Molly woke the next day she was blissfully sore and achy. She was also alone in the bed. She could hear Sherlock and John chatting in the front room and she bit her lip contemplating what she should do.

Thankfully Sherlock had at least had the foresight to bring her clothes in, they were folded up at the bottom of the bed but it still looked as if she would have to make 'the walk of shame' past John to get home. She wondered whether Sherlock had given him any kind of warning. Oh well there was only one way to find out.

It was when John stopped talking mid-sentence with his jaw hanging open that she realised he had had no idea that she was there. He quickly glanced between Molly and Sherlock before recovering himself. He cleared his throat before speaking, 'Molly, hi, I..err...didn't know you were here. There's coffee or tea if you'd like some.'

'No, it's fine John, thank you. I have to be at work in just over an hour so I'd best get on.' She turned to Sherlock wondering quite what to say, 'I'll see you later then?'

'I expect so, yes. Goodbye Molly.' He barely even glanced at her.

If they'd been alone Molly would have had something to say about his seemingly cold behaviour but she didn't want to embarrass John, instead she just gathered up her coat and bag and left.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

As the door closed downstairs John turned to Sherlock anger on his face, 'what was that?'

Sherlock looked at him surprised, 'I would have thought **that **was obvious, Molly stayed over last night...and yes before you ask we did have sex. Now read me that third email again, I think it's the best of a bad bunch, not worth leaving the flat for but might occupy an hour or so.'

John took a deep breath, 'no, I'd figured out she'd stayed the night I meant what was that in terms of the way you spoke to her?'

'I see no problem with what I said...I agreed we would probably see each other later and I said good bye what else should I have done?'

'I don't know, but that...that was cold Sherlock, dismissive. I'm surprised she didn't slap you across the face again. If that was not what you intended you had better fix it.'

Sherlock fisted his hands in his hair growling in frustration, 'God, why are there so many ridiculous rules, how do you manage to keep up with them all, it's madness. Why can't we just say what we need to and move on?'

'Because Sherlock real people have real feelings, feelings that can get hurt. Molly knows what you're like but that will only carry you so far. You need to try to think about how you come across sometimes...in fact not just sometimes, most of the time.'

Sherlock fell into silence. Part of him was still irritated by the need to worry about this kind of thing but a small, nagging part of him was concerned about how Molly might have felt.

In the end it was a phone call from Lestrade that pulled him out of his reverie. John listened in.

'When was the body found? Where is it being taken? No...Bart's is no good now. I need Molly to do the autopsy...I don't care how good Mike Stamford is he isn't the best...Molly's at Charing Cross hospital have the body sent there and I'll meet you up there in just over an hour.'

He hung up already making his way to his bedroom to get dressed. He smiled over his shoulder at John, 'a body John, murdered and dumped in the Thames, the day is looking up.' John just rolled his eyes at the glee in Sherlock's voice, only he could get excited about that.

MHMHMHNHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly had been at work just over an hour. Once again Tania seemed determined to make her life a misery. Equipment was missing from Molly's area, her files seemed to have been mixed up and when she'd been asked about her latest autopsy she took ten minutes finding the notes with her boss sighing behind her back with impatience. The trouble was she had no proof that it was Tania other than seeing her smirking and laughing as she was trying to find her things.

She was busy working on her first body of the day when she heard Tania talking to one of the admin assistants, 'Oh my God who is that? He's gorgeous, I'm sure he seems familiar. Do you recognise him?' The assistant shook her head. They were both looking through the windows into the corridor but Molly couldn't quite see from her bay.

The doors to the morgue swung open and Molly heard Tania greeting whoever it was, 'hi, you're new here aren't you? Can I help at all?'

It was when Molly heard a familiar baritone voice that she finally stopped what she was doing and looked up properly.

'I'm looking for Dr Molly Hooper. Can you tell me where she is?'

Tania giggled, 'oh you don't want to speak to her, she's only been here a couple of weeks, I'm sure I can help you, Mr...err?'

There was a pause, Molly could almost picture him looking Tania up and down taking in every detail. Molly almost winced on Tania's behalf but she'd been horrible to Molly from day one so maybe she deserved this.

'Hmm, what have we here? Middle child, desperate for attention. One failed marriage behind you, second in the process of collapsing...oh and given that you cheated on your exams I would deduce that you are not a very good pathologist. Molly Hooper on the other hand is the best pathologist in London so if you don't mind I'll speak to her...if you want to make yourself useful I'll have a coffee, black two sugars and the name is Holmes, Sherlock Holmes... Ah Molly there you are.'

He strode over pulling off his gloves, John smiled apologetically at Tania who looked like she might cry.

'Good, Molly, Graham is coming in shortly with a body. I need the autopsy carrying out straight away, I need you to confirm or otherwise the cause of death and I need anything else you can tell me that will help to identify the victim and where they may have been killed. Body was dumped in the Thames...so unoriginal.'

'OK, why is the body coming here? Scotland Yard tend to always use Bart's. It's closer after all and more geared up to criminal investigations.'

'That's as maybe but you are here and I want you to carry out the autopsy. Talking of which when will you return to Bart's. There really is no reason for you to still be here. Ah...Graham, what took you so long?'

Lestrade walked in shaking his head, 'Greg, for the last time my name is Greg. You're supposed to be a fucking genius so why can you never remember my name. Hi Molly...John. Bodies being brought in now.'

'I'll just go have a word with my manager about treating it as a priority.' Molly walked over to the main office leaving the three men to discuss some of the details of the case. As she was making her way back they all clearly heard Tania laughing to her friend about Molly who was just passing them. 'Now that's embarrassing. She obviously has a thing for that Sherlock Holmes guy but he clearly doesn't like her, why would he, she's so plain.'

Greg looked round scowling, embarrassed and angry on Molly's behalf, Molly blushed a beet red colour but just walked faster to get back to her bay. Sherlock carried on with what he was saying as though he hadn't heard a thing.

'Right, well it's fine for me to carry out the autopsy now. It should take an hour or so, longer if there are tests to be done, I'm assuming you want the full works. Are you staying or shall I call you when I'm finished?'

Sherlock was looking at his phone texting, 'no, I'm going to check out the river, where the body was found. I might be able to calculate where the body was thrown in based on the times and the rate of current. Text me when you have some information. I'll see you later.' With that he caught Molly around the waist and pulled her too him for a scorching kiss. As they separated he carried on, 'John tells me I need to get better at saying goodbye, I hope that was an improvement. Until later then, Gr...' He scrunched up his eyes and then said tentatively 'Greg?'

Lestrade barely heard him, he was just staring open mouthed at Molly who herself was speechless.

Sherlock looked at them both, 'what? What have I done now? John, was that not good?'

John laughed, pulling Sherlock's arm, 'come on you great idiot, and no don't worry that was fine, a bit of a shock no doubt, but it was fine. See you later Molly.' With that they left the room.

Greg looked at Molly, 'so you and Sherlock, how long has that been going on then?'

'Oh, just over a week, still early days. Just getting used to it..him...well, you know what he's like,' she giggled nervously.

'Yeah, I do. Well, good luck Molly, I think you're going to need it. Let me know when you have some results.' With that he left too, leaving Molly with a work colleague who looked like she swallowed a lemon.

**For the Cabin Pressure fans among you I don't think the lemon can be in play if she's swallowed it.**

**As always let me know your thoughts, next chapter will be up Wednesday.**


	9. Chapter 9

**As ever I am blown away by the support you guys give me. We've hit 100 reviews and over 100 followers. You've no idea how much your support encourages and inspires me. So thank you. **

**Chapter 9**

Molly decided to take the initiative after work and made her way to Baker St without waiting for an invite. She picked up the ingredients for a quick meal on the way unsure as to whether or not he would even be there let alone want to eat. She knew he would sometimes not eat when on a case but she hoped to persuade him otherwise; he needed to take better care of himself.

When she arrived John was just leaving, 'hey Molls, good job you're here he wasn't happy with me going, but only coz he didn't want to talk to the skull about the case,' he rolled his eyes. 'He seems to forget I have a wife and child now and can't just be at his beck and call.'

Molly asked after Mary and Elizabeth and promised to call round soon for a visit.

'Yeah, please do. Mary would really like the company, she's not really your stay at home mum type and baby talk is driving her mad. She'd love to hear the ins and outs of you and Sherlock. Don't worry I'll make myself scarce, I really don't want to hear the ins and outs of my best mate's love life. Wow, that's something I never thought I'd hear myself say in relation to Sherlock. ' He laughed and then let himself out of the front door as Molly made her way up the stairs.

As she entered Sherlock opened one eye briefly. He was sat in his chair, hands steepled under his chin.

Molly made her way through to the kitchen and set about making them a meal. She decided to leave him to his musings. He'd let her know soon enough if he needed her for anything.

Twenty minutes later the food was ready. Molly had cleared enough space on the kitchen table for two plates and as she served up the food Sherlock made his way over.

She leaned up to kiss him briefly, 'hey, I didn't want to disturb you when you were thinking. How's the case going?'

'It's not, and we need to talk Molly.'

Molly stomach dropped, 'what...what about?' She felt tears starting to well up into her eyes, was he breaking up with her, already, he sounded so serious.

He sat down picking up his knife and fork and looked at her. He was about to speak when he frowned, 'what's the matter? Why do you look as though you're about to cry?'

Molly sighed her shoulders slumping a bit, 'just say what you need to say Sherlock.'

'It's me isn't it? I've said or done something to hurt you, you weren't like this when you arrived so it's something I've done since, but we've barely interacted. You need to tell me Molly. How can I do better if I don't even know where I've gone wrong?'

'Please Sherlock, tell me what you were going to say...please.'

'Well, I wanted to talk to you about why you're not back at Bart's already. You are clearly unhappy there, the staff are treating you disrespectfully and given that you went there to get away from me, which is now a mute point, I don't understand why you aren't back at Bart's.' He looked at her expectantly.

Molly's face broke into a grin and she wiped away her brief tears with the back of her hand, 'is that all? I thought...you sounded as though...' She took a deep breath and ploughed on, 'I thought you were breaking up with me, you sounded so serious when you said we needed to talk.'

'What, no, don't be ridiculous Molly, is that why you looked so upset? Have I given you reason to think I would want us to separate because if so I wasn't aware of it.'

'No, Sherlock, no you haven't. It's just this, us, it's still so new and I suppose I still can't quite believe it's happening. I keep waiting for the bubble to burst, for you to say goodbye.'

'Hmmm. Anyway what about Bart's? I need you back there. Charing Cross is too far...I don't like it.'

Molly took a bite of the food and thought about what she should do, 'but it could be good for my career, it's a much bigger set up and if I got a position there I could earn more money, there would be more chances for promotion.'

'Pfft you don't need the extra money and they don't do as much criminal pathology as Bart's so long term it would be detrimental to your career prospects and Molly, I know I'm not a big one for feelings but would you be happy there? You didn't seem very happy.'

Molly sat back, slightly shocked, 'Who says I don't need the money? Sherlock have you seen the size of my flat, do you know how much the rent costs?'

'Yes but given you'll soon be moving in here you won't have to worry about rent for much longer. How much notice do you need to give your landlord?'

Molly almost choked on a piece of pasta. She took a gulp of water before she could reply.

'Sherlock we've been dating, if I can call it that, for what... not quite two weeks. I'm not sure we're at the moving in stage.'

Once again he frowned, 'what in god's name is the 'moving in' stage? Why is this so difficult? You have been in love with me for what six years,' he put his hand up to stop her rebuttal, 'Molly you know me well enough, I know it's been that long. Now that I have acknowledged that I have feelings for you there is no reason for us to not act on them.'

He stopped and looked at Molly before he sighed, 'you need more...Molly, I'm not good at this, you know I'm not. I...I have never felt about anyone else the way I feel about you, maybe John but without the sex...definitely without the sex. That's a big deal for me, I don't do feelings or sentiment normally but it seems I do for you. That isn't going to change anytime soon. I'm not going to suddenly decide I want someone else. So if I love you and you love me we may as well get on with it and move in together. I don't want to have to date you like a teenager, it's pointless. Plus...I find I enjoy having you here, my mind feels calmer when you are around.'

Molly sniffed her eyes welling up this time with happy tears.

'Not again, what have I done now?'

Molly stood up and went round the table to Sherlock she gestured to him to move his chair back and when he did she sat on his knee with her arms around his neck. 'I think that was the sweetest thing I have ever heard you say. Thank you Sherlock and yes you're right I love you too and yes, if you want me too I will move in with you.' She leant forward and kissed him. The kiss was slow and passionate all thoughts of the food lying before them were swiftly forgotten.

Sherlock somehow managed to stand up lifting Molly along with him. Part of her thought she really needed to ask him how he stayed so strong and fit when he never seemed to do any exercise but for the most part she was just enjoying being close to him, kissing him.

When they got to the bedroom they quickly undressed before falling in the bed in a tangled heap of limbs. Molly ended up lying on her back with Sherlock lying on top of her. She loved the weight of him pressing down on her, her hands trailing down his back to his muscular backside. He was already hard for her and she could feel him pressed against her thigh.

He broke off from kissing her and slid down the bed licking and nipping at her breasts then down her stomach. He spread her legs and pushed his nose into her curls breathing her in. She clutched at the sheets torn between desire and embarrassment. She wasn't even sure whether Sherlock had ever engaged in oral sex before let alone whether he was any good at it. Her concerns were soon forgotten though. He was good, very good.

She heard herself moaning loudly as he licked and sucked at her clit, two fingers thrusting inside her. She moaned again and couldn't stop herself. 'God, Sherlock... please...I need...oh'.

He bent his fingers so they hit her G spot and she came, lifting off the bed with her back arched, pressing herself into his face riding him. As she came down from her high he sat up wiping his face with the back of his hand smirking, 'I take it you enjoyed that Doctor Hooper?'

She knelt up opposite him, 'you take it right.' She sat astride him pushing him down onto his back then leant forwards to kiss him.

He bucked up against her grinding his hardness against her. She leant down and grasped him hearing a deep groan from him. She stroked him up and down a couple of times before positioning him at her wet, slick entrance then she slid down onto him.

As she leant forward, over him, he brought his head up to suck and nip at her breast using his hand on the small of her back to press himself into her, their pelvises grinding together sending shockwaves through her already stimulated clit. She rode him slow at first before building the speed suddenly desperate to reach a second climax. As soon as he released her breast she kissed him their tongues battling for dominance. She could tell he was close his thrusts almost lifting her off the bed and then she came, in great shuddering waves, crying out his name feeling him release inside her.

They both slumped back on the bed; Sherlock's arms holding her close. Molly felt as though she could sleep for a week. She moved to his side and they lay together as their breathing settled back to normal. Sherlock shifted so his head was on her breasts and she moved her hand into his hair sliding over his scalp as she felt him relax against her.

She was just wondering whether he had fallen asleep when he suddenly sat up, 'oh, of course.'

With that he was out of the bed and leaving the room. Molly called after him, 'what is it? What's wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong, no that's brilliant... Greg...Sherlock. We need to check for any churches that back onto the Thames or are close enough that you could move a body easily to the river. E-mail it to me and I'll be in touch.'

By this point Molly had made her way into the front room wrapping herself in one of Sherlock's dressing gowns and carrying a second for the man who was currently standing buck naked in front of his wall looking at various photos from the autopsy and the scene where the body was found.

He absent-mindedly took the robe from her, 'yes, yes see here and here Molly. I knew I'd missed something. The shirt the victim was wearing it's clerical but without the dog collar. And here, the wounds around the victims neck. You couldn't explain the reason for the strange markings...'

Molly nodded looking at the photo. Sherlock continued, 'what if he was at work, in his church? What if these marks are from a rosary? Could that explain the patterns?'

Again Molly nodded, 'yes, I think you might be right. But surely someone would have noticed he were missing by now. He'd been dead at least 12 hours when he was found and that was this morning. He must have been killed about 24 hours ago.'

'Not necessarily. If he's a catholic priest there would be no family to miss him. It's mid week, the killer could have locked up the church, thrown the key in after the body to give himself time to get away.'

At that moment there was a ping from Sherlock's laptop, he turned and sat down in front of it opening up the e-mail. He quickly sent a text.

Lestrade's team have narrowed it down to seven, I've asked them to ring the priests or vicars and let me know if any don't answer. 'Come on get dressed, we need to be ready.'

'Ready, ready for what?'

'The murder scene... the game Molly Hooper, is on.'

**I have always wanted to use that line. I'll post again at the weekend and for those following Sherlock Holmes, Vampire there'll be an update in that in the next couple of days.**


	10. Chapter 10

**So I initially thought about using a real church in London for this murder but decided against it. The St Clements and the Martyrs is entirely fictitious. I should also point out that there will be dark themes, to do with the crime going forward, so the M rating is for that as well as the smut, and there will continue to be lots of smut :).**

**Aside from all that – it's the weekend whoop, whoop enjoy!**

**Chapter 10**

It was only a few minutes later that Sherlock's phone pinged with an incoming text. He viewed it as he pulled on his Belstaff quickly wrapping his favourite blue scarf around his neck. Molly was still pulling on her shoes as he left, shouting at her to hurry up as he did.

She ran out of the front door carrying her coat just as he flagged down a cab.

'St Clement's and the Martyrs in the city.'

Molly pulled on her coat as they set off before settling back in her seat watching the bright lights whizz by. Travelling in a cab through London at night still excited her in a way only a person who had grown up in the country could be.

Sherlock was busy texting at the same time as talking to her, 'this is the only church where they've had no response. Gavin's team are seeing if they can find another key holder. Forensics will meet us there.'

As it was they were the first to arrive and Sherlock stamped about impatiently. 'For God's sake where are they?'

Molly laughed at him lightly, 'calm down they'll be here soon enough. It's a beautiful, old church isn't it.'

Sherlock glanced round briefly, 'I suppose so...Ah who do we have here?'

A beat up old Volvo had pulled up onto the drive of the church and an elderly man proceeded to get out. 'Hello, I'm Mr Gow, the church warden. Are you with the police? I was told not to let anyone but them in.'

'Yes,' said Sherlock flashing a badge at him briefly, 'do you have the key? Come on, open it up and be quick about it, we haven't got all night.'

Molly sighed, 'thank you so much for coming out, we know it's late.'

'Molly, we don't have time for small talk.'

They walked behind the old man down the path to the church door, 'who's badge was that that you showed him?' Molly whispered as they went.

She was answered unsuspectingly by Mr Gow as he unlocked a small door set into the main doors of the church. 'Here you are Detective Lastrad. Do you need me to come in or should I wait here?'

'It's Lestrade, but yes wait here, my team will be arriving shortly. Come on Molly.'

Molly followed Sherlock into the body of the church before hissing, 'I can't believe you did that, are we meant to be in here? Isn't that an offence...impersonating a police officer?'

She got no response from Sherlock who was busy inspecting the floor and the sides of the pews as he passed them.

'Look here..and here..signs of something heavy being dragged. So the body was being brought from this direction.' He pointed up to the front of the church. As they reached the steps up to the choir stalls he stopped turning a circle, his eyes still down on the ground, before he leapt forward to the left.

Molly followed quietly not wanting to disturb his concentration. She looked around herself but didn't see anything unusual. Sherlock made his way over to an old, wooden confessional tucked away against the nave wall.

At this point he reached into his pocket pulling out a pair of latex gloves which he pulled on before gently opening the left hand door.

He silently pointed to a footprint just inside but obviously didn't find anything else of interest because he soon moved to the right hand door. Immediately he let out a delighted cry, 'yes, we've found our crime scene, Molly. Obvious signs of struggle, the stool has been broken, there are scratch marks on the walls and scuff marks on the floor.'

He was about to continue when there was a shout from the main entrance of the church, 'Bloody hell, Sherlock. You were supposed to wait outside the church. I should throw you off this case right here and now, Anderson's having kittens outside about you destroying the integrity of the crime scene. And why exactly does that old boy think you're me?'

'Well, Gavin if you hadn't taken so long to get here I wouldn't have needed to. As for destroying evidence it's the other way around when your clod-hopping buffoons arrive.'

By this time Greg had made his way down to the confessional nodding a greeting to Molly. 'Alright, please tell me you at least have something for me.'

'Murder took place here. It wasn't planned, obviously something happened during the confession to trigger the murder. I don't think the killer was familiar with the church because he took the body out of the front door instead of using the side door out through the vestry, which would have been closer to the river. Something happened...but what?'

He steepled his hands closing his eyes.

'So you think it's a one off then, we haven't got a serial killer on our hands.'

He opened his eyes again, 'I wouldn't like to say that. This is a God-Fearing person, we can tell that by him coming to confession. He's just killed a priest and, in his eyes, damned his soul. In for a penny in for a pound what's to stop him killing more now. Question is who and why? Oh, this is brilliant. Now Molly there's a single footprint inside the killer's side of the confessional we need to get a sample for us to study at the lab. Come on.'

Greg rolled his eyes at Molly behind Sherlock's back as he knelt to scrape up some of the residue.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

When they got to Bart's Molly left Sherlock to his tests whilst she went and caught up with Mike. He was more than happy to hear that she wanted to return to Bart's but disappointed to hear how she had been treated at Charing Cross.

He agreed to speak to his counterpart and insist on Molly's returning to Bart's on the basis of work load, Molly just didn't want to go down the route of a grievance against Tania and this seemed the easiest solution all round.

She made her way back through to the lab with coffees for herself and Sherlock; if he had found anything interesting it was likely to be a long night.

She was right, it was past four in the morning when she finally threw in the towel and left him to it.

He'd grumbled at her leaving but she'd kissed him on the cheek and told him to leave her instructions as to what else needed doing and, if necessary, she'd pick it up later that same day.

By the time she got back to her own flat she only had energy to change into some pyjamas before collapsing into bed.

When she woke six hours later she found she wasn't alone in the bed. At some point whilst she'd slept Sherlock had broken into her flat, again, and crept into her bed.

She smiled to herself as she watched him sleep still finding the newness of it all fascinating. She was tempted to wake him, wondering if she could or should initiate some morning sex but in the end she slid out of the side of the bed carefully so as not to wake him. She figured seeing as he came to bed even later than she had he needed his sleep.

She had a quick shower and then made her way through to the kitchen. She wasn't actually due into work until the following day, she'd only go in if Sherlock needed help with anything.

She opened the fridge trying to remember the last time she actually went shopping and then wondering if she did shop whether it should be for here or for Sherlock's place..._my place_...she rolled it around in her head trying to get used to the idea. Was she really doing the right thing moving in with him so quickly? She knew how mercurial he could be, could he drop her as quickly as he picked her up.

She felt instinctively that he could but only time would tell whether he would or not. Which left her back with her decision. Should she give up her home and move in with him?

She sat in her front room with a cup of coffee and some toast as she thought things through. She'd never been the impulsive type, always made the right decisions the sensible choices. The nearest she'd come to being reckless was choosing pathology as a career choice, she still remembered the look of shock and disgust on her mother's face when she'd told her.

But like it or not she came alive with Sherlock. She thought back to that night all those years ago when he'd come to ask for her help. When he'd told her he needed her. She'd known back then that she would do anything for him and she had. What she'd ended up doing, faking his death, faking his autopsy report, signing a death certificate...it had all been highly illegal and it had only been Mycroft's intervention on Sherlock's 'return' that had stopped her being both disciplined and investigated by the police.

She looked around her tiny flat, there were no really good memories attached to this place, no real history. If worse came to the worse she would just rent another small, bland apartment. She nodded her head to herself, smiling, so that was her decision, sod it, she would move in with him. She could hear her dad in her head _'Molly you only regret the things you don't do, not the things you do.'_

Right, well if she were moving in she'd better think about how to go about it, starting with a phone call to her landlord to give notice. She put down her cuppa and picked up her phone.

**I don't know about you guys but I felt Molly needed to give the 'moving in with Sherlock' decision more thought and consideration. We all get swept up with things in the heat of the moment but she needed to revisit it in the cold light of day.**

**Next chapter should be posted Sunday. **


	11. Chapter 11

**So here in the UK we're starting to get hints of Spring in the air, one of my favourite times of year, even if it does give me hay fever. Hope you guys are all enjoying your weekend wherever you are on this amazing planet of ours.**

**Chapter 11**

By the time Sherlock dragged himself into Molly's front room an hour later, wrapped in one of her sheets, she was surrounded by heaps of books that she was busily sorting into different piles.

He looked around grumpily, 'what on earth are you doing?'

Molly looked up, noticing him for the first time, 'oh, morning, I'm deciding which books to take with me to your place and which to give to charity.'

'You are not taking these books to my place!'

'What, why not? Have you changed your mind?'

He knelt down on the floor in front of her and wrapped her up with him in his sheet, 'you have got to start being more confident about us Molly Hooper. I only meant you're not taking them to my place, you're taking them to our place. Honestly, I thought I was supposed to be the reluctant partner in this relationship.'

He pulled her too him and as her hands splayed on his chest she realised that he was naked underneath the sheet. 'Mmmmmm, you're all warm.'

He smirked down at her, 'I'm not just warm, I believe I'm hot,' and with that he kissed her pushing her backwards onto the floor sliding his hands up her sides underneath her pyjamas.

Molly kissed him back enthusiastically her own hands busily exploring his body. She moaned into his mouth as he palmed her breast, 'so can I expect this kind of greeting every morning when I move in, coz if so I might have to move in today.'

He smiled as he kissed his way down her neck, 'I wish you would, I already hate you not being in my bed.' He pushed her top up and sucked her nipple into his mouth using his tongue and his teeth to stimulate her until she was pushing herself against his erection for friction. She had never been with a guy who turned her on so completely and seemed to know exactly what to do to arouse her.

Within seconds he had removed her clothes and was pushing himself inside her. He set a slow pace that drove her mad, bringing her to the brink of her orgasm more than once before slowing and teasing her away from the edge. In the end she pushed him over onto his back frowning down at his smiles and she set her own pace, relishing the feel of him both inside her and underneath her. Within seconds she was crying out his name and she swore at him to come himself. It worked and she felt his release as he gripped her hips so tight she felt sure she'd bruise, not that she cared.

They ended up lying tangled in a bed-sheet on scattered piles of books trying to catch their breath.

Sherlock was the first to talk, 'I have no idea why I waited so long to do this Molly. You have to understand in the past sex was not intimate, just a physical release. I...I never realised that with the right person there would be such an emotional release as well...I can't describe it, I just know I don't want it...us to stop.'

'I'm just glad you finally realised, now come on there's work to be done if I'm moving in with you.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

A couple of days later as John helped Molly carry an empty chest of drawers up the stairs of Baker St. she realised that Sherlock wasn't much of a do'er when it came to domestic stuff.

'So, where exactly has he buggered off to?' Huffed John as he took most of the weight of the furniture as Molly guided it round the bend of the stairs.

'I don't know, he said something vague about seeing Lestrade about the case and I haven't seen him since.'

'I hope you know what you're letting yourself in for Molly. You need to start as you mean to go on or he'll have you acting like an in-built slave, God knows that's what I was sometimes...well, most of the time if I'm honest.'

'I know you're right John, but I also know what he's like. I'm going to play it by ear and see if we can't find some compromises.'

'Well good luck with that one. Now where do you want this?'

'I suppose in Sherlock's...our bedroom. Wow, this is going to take some getting used to.'

'To be honest, you're not the only one getting used to it, I thought the grumpy, old git would die alone but you've proved me wrong. Mary seems to be the only one not fazed she's just amazed it took him so long and says I should have done more to get him to see how perfect you were for him.'

'That reminds me, I will call in soon and see how her and Elizabeth are getting on. I could do with a girly natter.'

They'd finally positioned the chest of drawers against the only blank wall in Sherlock's room. Molly frowned at the difference it made in the room. All his bedroom furniture was dark wood and expensive looking whilst hers was light wood and cheap looking. She hoped it wasn't a metaphor for their relationship.

She thanked John for his help and started to unpack her suitcases of clothes. At least before he'd left Sherlock had made some room for her in his wardrobe and one of the bedside cabinets so she had a reasonable amount of space.

She'd only brought the basics so far, she'd have to make a decision about some of the larger items of furniture eventually but she still had over a month left on her lease so she didn't need to do everything straight away. She could decide whether to store or sell in a couple of weeks. There wasn't much she was desperate to keep as it was mostly cheap Ikea stuff, no keepsakes.

When she'd finished in the bedroom she made her way through to the kitchen and sighed in despair, what on earth was she going to do here? She knew Sherlock loved his experiments and she absolutely didn't want to stop him doing anything he loved but likewise she quite enjoyed cooking and, honestly, she preferred her food not to have to share fridge space with body parts.

She'd have to give it some thought. The living room was a bit better. When John moved out his departure had left a couple of shelves of free space on the bookshelves. She spent an hour putting her medical journals in here before moving upstairs to put her trashy novels on the bookcase in John's old room. Perfect. It was as she was up there and she looked around the space that she had an idea...it might just work. She'd have to sort it out in a couple of days though, she didn't have time today.

She went back downstairs and texted Sherlock.

_It's OK the move has been done. Safe for you to come home now. Bring food. Mx_

She smiled wondering whether he'd deny avoiding helping. The ping on her phone gave her her answer.

_Good. Will be back in half an hour with Chinese. SH_

So no denial then. Well, he's never anything but honest. She smiled to herself again and decided to see if Mrs Hudson were free for a cuppa and a chat.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

When Sherlock arrived back it was to an empty flat though he quickly realised that Molly must be downstairs. He nodded approvingly at the books that had now appeared in his bookshelves. He'd enjoy browsing through some of those.

It wasn't such a good sight in his bedroom though. He winced at the cheap monstrosity that had appeared from Molly's bedroom. He definitely wanted Molly here but he wasn't so sure about her furniture. It would have to go, but he supposed he'd have to put up with it for now.

He threw himself down on the settee and texted downstairs to Mrs Hudson for her to let Molly know he was back. He couldn't be bothered going down, he'd only get dragged into some interminable conversation. It would be quite good having Molly here to pick up the slack with Mrs Hudson.

By the time Molly arrived back he was 'fast asleep' in his mind palace, a bag of Chinese on the kitchen table waiting to be unpacked. Molly sighed, but moved to get some plates.

A few minutes later she put the food onto the coffee table and nudged Sherlock to move his legs. He yawned as he sat upright but leant forward to kiss her on the cheek.

'So, how did the move go? I take it Toby is now in residence.' He looked around him as though Toby would jump out any second.

'Yes, he's hiding out upstairs at the moment, he doesn't like change...so you two should get along perfectly.' She smiled looking at Sherlock out of the corner of her eye. He huffed in response.

'So, how's the case going? What more do you know?'

'His name was Father Cassidy, he'd been based at St Clement's for over ten years. Aged 63, he went into the priesthood at 18 working as a local parish priest all his life though in different locations across London. So far, so nothing. I keep coming back to the fact that this crime was unexpected and unplanned. It looks as though he were strangled with his own rosary, which is still missing. Something happened in that confessional which triggered the crime. But what? There's just not enough information.'

'Have you deduced anything about the killer from the footprint you found?'

'Not much, no. Definitely male, probably about six feet tall. Works and lives in the local area from the residue found in the footprint, maybe not a regular church goer, but Catholic background. As I said in the church he didn't know the layout. Office worker probably which doesn't help as the local area has hundreds of offices.' He pushed his plate away and rubbed his hand over his face. 'You get some sleep Molly, I'll stay out here. I need to catalogue my thoughts, see what links I can find.'

Molly reached out her hand to his face turning it to face her. She kissed him softly on the lips, her eyes closing momentarily, 'OK but don't think you can desert our bed every night Mister Holmes.' With that she picked up the plates and left him to it.

**I'm challenging myself a bit with this story. I've never written established Sherlolly so I want to explore the reality of living with Sherlock Holmes, I suspect it would not be all plain sailing! What do you think?**


	12. Chapter 12

**So as I finish the final edits on this chapter I'm waiting for the UK eclipse, only trouble is there is so much cloud coverage where I live that I can't even see the sun let alone the eclipse. Maybe it will get spooky dark though. **

**Anyway enough with my trivia, thank you all for your comments and suggestions, whilst they can't always influence this story (though some do) they often inspire or influence future stories, so thank you and keep them coming in.**

**As I haven't done a disclaimer for a while let me just stress that I own nothing but the nugget of my idea. All characters are owned elsewhere.**

**Chapter 12**

Molly had to be in work the next day so she left Sherlock to it. When she'd woken up she'd found him sprawled out on the settee with a blanket thrown over him. He'd come round soon after she'd showered and as she went out if the door he was drinking coffee and backtracking over the work he'd done the night before, grumbling at his lack of progress.

It was five hours later when he'd swept into the morgue with John informing her that a second body had been found in the grounds of another church, this time it was a St Martins about five miles from the first murder.

'Lestrade is sending the body to you, should be here shortly. A nun, aged in her fifties, John took a quick look at the body and believes she too has been strangled though there also appears to be head wound. Can you perform the autopsy as soon as possible? I'll be upstairs, text me when you're done.' He was about to walk away when he seemed to hesitate. Instead he came over kissed her on the cheek and said, 'thank you Molly, I'll see you shortly.'

John smiled, 'aw look, he's learning, just like a real boy.'

Sherlock just scowled at him, 'yes, very funny. Come on, we have work to do.'

Molly laughed as they left enjoying the ease with which they seemed to be coping with the change in their relationship. Was it really only a few weeks ago that she had left Bart's thinking there was no hope.

Sherlock going to the lab reminded her about her plans for the kitchen at home. She found her phone and rang her brother to see if he would be free later, she needed his van and some muscle.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The autopsy was quite straight forward, strangulation, similar bruising and trauma to the neck. She'd been hit over the head first with a blunt instrument so had likely been unconscious.

Molly emailed the details to Sherlock and sent him a text once she was in the taxi leaving Bart's, she didn't want him to stop her leaving as she had things to do.

She met her brother and his mate at her old flat. He swept her up into one of his bear hugs before following her up the stairs to her apartment.

'So, Stink, you're finally moving in with a bloke. How come Mum doesn't seem to know anything about it?'

Molly turned round, mouth open in shock, 'you haven't told her have you?'

'Well, I didn't think it was a secret. So what is it you need moving?'

It took a good hour to pack up his van and get to Baker St. Molly was a bit worried that Sherlock might have returned home in that time and she wasn't quite sure she was ready for family introductions but all was quiet. Even Mrs Hudson seemed to be out.

It took them another hour to make the changes Molly wanted in Sherlock's flat. She found herself biting her lip with nerves on more than one occasion. She just hoped he wouldn't mind.

When they'd done Molly gave her brother some money to buy himself and his mate a couple of pints, as a thank you. Once again he wrapped her up in a big hug, lifting her off the ground and told her not to leave it so long next time between visits.

'I miss you Stink. And bring this new fella along, I need to check him out and make sure he's good enough for my little sister.'

Molly nodded her head but cringed internally at the thought of Sherlock going for a pint with Peter. She loved her big brother to bits but he was more brawn than brains, all heart and no logic; the polar opposite of Sherlock.

She finished tidying up a few things and was almost done when she heard the door slam downstairs and footsteps making their way up.

'Ah, Molly good you're here. Why did you leave Bart's without telling me? I needed you to run some tests and ended up having to rely on John to do it. Plus aren't you supposed to say goodbye to your significant other before you leave, I'm sure I keep getting berated by John for that.'

Molly found herself smiling at his petulant outburst, but as he threw off his coat he noticed the changes she'd made.

'Molly, where is my equipment?'

'Right, yes, before you get mad, come with me.' She took him by the hand and pulled him away from the kitchen which was looking clean and fresh and held decidedly no body parts.

She led him up the stairs to John's old room gabbling her words out as she went, trying to persuade him. 'I wanted a kitchen I can actually cook in and a fridge that was hygienic. Then I thought, what about John's old room, it's not being used, you could work in here undisturbed, there's more space. What do you think?'

She pushed the door open.

John's old bed had been moved against the wall and the table from Molly's old flat was in the middle of the room along with a couple of old lab stools that she'd acquired from work. Sherlock's fridge was next to the old wardrobe and his experiments and microscope were all set up ready for use.

Sherlock walked around the room, looking at the equipment and the lighting.

Molly carried on, 'I spoke to Mike, and I might be able to get you a few bits of old equipment, we've just bought some new scanners and I can probably buy the old ones quite cheap. This way you won't have to keep moving things or clearing up as much...say something...what are you thinking?'

Sherlock turned to her pouting. 'It's too far from the front room, what if I need something?'

'We can dig up some kind of comms system I'm sure, walkie talkies or something. Plus I'll even throw in a promise of some new body parts. Name what you want and I'll do my best to get them. Well?'

Sherlock wasn't overly convinced but he could see how nervous Molly was. 'What do I think? I think I have a resourceful and persuasive girlfr...partner who also happens to be great in bed.'

With that he came over and kissed her. Molly sighed with relief hardly noticing as he picked her up and balanced her on the edge of the table still kissing her as his hands worked their way down the buttons of her blouse.

'Mmmmm, I didn't realise you'd like it this much,' laughed Molly as he made his way down her neck to her breasts.

'Maybe I've just always had a fantasy about having sex with you on one of the lab desks at Bart's, this is the next best thing.'

Molly blushed bright red and gasped out, 'Sherlock! I can't believe you just said that...oh...'

At that point he had stripped her of her trousers and plunged two fingers into her. She felt her muscles tighten around him, blood rushing to her genitals. She clung to his shoulders for balance as he roughly kissed her again his tongue in her mouth. She groaned at the welcome intrusion one hand moving to his hair, her nails scraping his scalp. She leant backwards and brought her legs up to wrap around his waist.

She was almost completely naked by this point and Sherlock was still fully dressed but that somehow made the experience all the more erotic. She heard him unzip his trousers and then felt him pressing against her entrance, pushing in. He felt big and hard and she enjoyed the feeling of him filling her completely.

This was no leisurely session; he seemed driven, thrusting into her again and again. Molly was just holding on urging him to go deeper and faster feeling herself getting closer and closer to the edge of her orgasm and as desperate as Sherlock for its completion.

In the end it was his voice, his beautiful voice, which sent her over the edge. He spoke her name, urging her to come for him, to fuck him, telling her how wet she was, how she felt, warm and tight around him. She cried out as she came her fingers digging into his back through his jacket and shirt. Then she could feel him coming as well, thrusting into her one last time before they sagged back onto the desk.

After a minute or so Sherlock withdrew and passed Molly her cardigan that had been discarded on the floor.

She wrapped it around herself as she sat on the edge of the table, 'wow...where did that come from?'

Sherlock smirked up at her as he picked up the rest of her clothing, 'why did you not enjoy it?'

'Oh I enjoyed it a lot, as you well know. It just...it seemed to come out of nowhere...'

He came back over and stood before her leaning forward to kiss her once more. This was a soft, sweet kiss. 'I just needed the release...this case is going nowhere, my mind was whirling and...you centre me...plus I really have had that fantasy.' He winked at her as he walked away, 'and I do like my new lab, Molly, now get dressed we have work to do.'

It was a whole week before his microscope reappeared in the kitchen.

**Poor Molly, she tried her best to talk Sherlock out of his bad kitchen/lab habits didn't she but I suspect he would be incorrigible.**

**Next update Sunday...and for those interested in the eclipse it was a complete bust, didn't even get spooky dark. Ah well, next one is 2026 apparently, start the countdown.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Another weekend, another chapter. How the time flies! Enjoy.**

**Chapter 13**

The next couple of days passed in a blur of work and helping Sherlock with his tests. He was following up the backgrounds of both the victims and seeing if he could piece together any links, but despite them both living and working within the Catholic Church in London he couldn't find any. London, it seemed, was a big place.

Molly knew both he and Lestrade were worried that if this had just turned into a generic vendetta against religious people it could be almost impossible to narrow down who might be next or find links to the killer. Sherlock was waiting on another body whilst Lestrade was hoping it would never happen.

In the meantime Sherlock was becoming increasingly difficult to live with. His sleeping patterns were all over the place and she was just concentrating on getting him to eat regular-ish meals.

It came to a head one evening after Molly had got back from a long day at work. She found Sherlock stood in front of his wall of facts, his face screwed up in concentration.

'Can I get you anything?'

'Yes, a solution to this case!'

'Sorry, no that's what we've got you for.' She smiled but Sherlock just huffed and threw himself down onto the settee. 'Don't joke Molly, you're really not good at it.' He closed his eyes, his hands steepling under his chin.

'OK' Molly sighed but made her way through to a kitchen which looked as though a bomb had hit it. There were dirty cups, plates, breakfast stuff not even put away. Not to mention the return of his microscope and various bits of experiments. She closed her eyes in anger but bit her tongue, willing herself not to say anything. She knew he was frustrated with the case, he just needed a break through.

She tidied up and made them both a small meal carrying Sherlock's plate through to him, before sitting and eating hers at the kitchen table. When she returned to him twenty minutes later the food was still there untouched.

'Come on Sherlock, you need to eat.'

He opened his eyes looking at her angrily, 'stop mothering me, Molly! I don't need you or anybody else to tell me what I need or don't need to do.' With that he swept up the plate and threw it across the room where it smashed scattering food and broken ceramics across the floor.

Molly stood there her mouth open in shock as he lay back down on the settee and rolled away from her towards the wall.

It wasn't long though before rage overtook the shock. _How dare he! _'Fine, be like that. I'm off out to see Mary, I promised John I'd call in. I expect that mess to be cleaned up before I get back, I am not your slave Sherlock Holmes or your verbal punchbag! And whilst I'm at it I'm fed up of doing all the work around here, this place is a tip. You need to pull your weight and stop expecting everybody to do everything for you!'

Sherlock either didn't care or chose not to respond so Molly gathered up her things and left the flat slamming the door behind her.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

By the time she got to John and Mary's it was just after eight in the evening. John greeted her at the door with a kiss and thanked her for coming round.

'Tell you what, why don't you and Mary pop down to our local for a drink. I can put Elizabeth to bed and catch up on some of my files for work. I've got a bit behind what with Sherlock and the baby and everything.'

Mary quickly agreed, grabbing her coat before he could change his mind and steering Molly down the road to the local high street. They ended up sitting in the corner of a local wine bar with Mary bemoaning the fact that she had baby sick on her shirt and looked more mum than glam compared to the bright, young things milling around the wine bar trying to get a date.

'Distract me from motherhood Molly and tell me all about you and Sherlock. How's it all going? And how is he in bed, I've always had my suspicions that he wasn't a virgin, though John swore blind that that was his nickname a few years back.'

Molly laughed, 'well, I can definitely confirm that he isn't a virgin now and given his erm...skills...he wasn't when we got together.'

'I knew it! You can always tell, he has the kind of confidence that comes with knowing you're good in bed.'

'Mary!'

'Oh don't! You know what I mean. But what's it like to live with him?'

Molly thought back to the past few days where they'd gone from frankly quite hot sex to him belittling and ignoring her and she sighed.

'Is he being a git? Because if he is I'll kill him.'

Molly looked at Mary and raised an eyebrow.

'OK, so maybe that isn't something I should joke about. What's he done now?'

'Oh nothing really. You know what he's like, particularly when he's on a case. I just need to get better at ignoring him when he's in one of his moods. I know he cares for me and wants me there. He just...forgets sometimes.'

Mary shook her head, 'no, Molly I'm sorry but you need to call him on it. Start as you mean to go on. He needs to know what's acceptable and what isn't. What? Why are you smiling?'

'No, it's nothing. It's just almost exactly the same as John said when he helped me move in the other day.'

'Well, great minds think alike. Now do you want another drink because mine seems to have disappeared?'

They spent another couple of hours laughing and drinking with Mary trying to prise details out of Molly re her sex life. By the time they got back to the house it was gone eleven and John insisted on calling Molly a cab, whilst Mary made her way up to bed.

'Tell him I've got a surgery tomorrow morning but I'll be available in the afternoon if he wants help with anything. And thanks for tonight Molly, Mary really needed the break.'

'That's OK John, anytime. It was good for me too.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

When she got back to Baker St. the flat was silent and dark. She checked that the mess had been cleaned up, before she quietly got ready for bed, and was glad to see that it had. She hoped he hadn't roped Mrs Hudson in to do it. She slipped into Sherlock's room, their room, wondering whether he was even there and if he was whether he was awake.

Well, he was definitely in the bed. She climbed in and rolled over onto her side, facing away from him and tried not to feel too hurt about how they'd left things earlier.

A minute later Sherlock rolled over as well and she felt his arm wrap around her waist and pull her back against him.

'I...I am sorry Molly. I shouldn't have taken my frustrations out on you like that. Will you forgive me?'

Molly turned round in his arms until she was facing him. She cupped his face with her hand, 'I know how you can be when you're on a case but I'll only put up with so much Sherlock.' She smiled pressing her lips to his. Slowly the kiss developed and he pulled Molly against him more firmly his hands travelling down to her bum before pulling her leg up and over his hip.

She could feel him hard against her centre and moaned as he rocked against her. They still hadn't stopped kissing and Molly felt almost dizzy from it. She could feel his chest, bare, against her hardened nipples, only her thin nightshirt separating them, her hands trailed down his back. It felt like so long since she had been with him, even though she knew it had only been a couple of days, and she could feel herself starting to unravel without him even needing to enter her.

He sensed she was close and quickly rolled her onto her back pushing her nightshirt up. He swiftly entered her and she gasped at the sensation. He held still letting her rock up to meet him, sensing her speeding up as her climax grew. Just as her frustration reached its peak he moved against her, thrusting in and out until she felt like she just exploded. Her orgasm seemed to last for ever and even when he'd spent himself within her she could still feel herself buzzing with aftershocks.

'Mmmmm maybe we should fight more often, if that's what the make up sex is like.' Molly lay, with Sherlock's head in her chest, playing with his hair as he hummed in agreement. They fell asleep soon after wrapped up in each other's embrace.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The next day brought a phone call from Lestrade and a fresh murder.

**I hope I'm getting the right balance of the reality of living with Sherlock. It wouldn't be all hearts and flowers but I don't want it to be too awful. **

**I've got a nice surprise for Molly in the next chapter though so maybe Sherlock will gain a few brownie points. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you for all your comments after the last chapter. You all seemed to feel that I was getting the balance right for their relationship so I will endeavour to maintain it. Oh and for info the church mentioned in this chapter really does exist, I did my research :).**

**Chapter 14**

The phone call came through in the early hours and Molly was vaguely aware of Sherlock moving around the bedroom before kissing her on the forehead and leaving.

When she got up a couple of hours later she had a text message from him asking her to go into work to carry out the autopsy. He'd even said please, which made a change.

She looked around the messy apartment as she got ready for work and wondered whether there was even a remote chance that Sherlock would do any tidying up before she got back from work. She seriously doubted it, especially as there was now a new murder to add to the case, but it didn't make the cleaning of the flat any less urgent.

By the time she got to Bart's the body was just being brought in. Donovan was there and explained that the victim was a defence barrister, he'd last been seen setting off to pray at the local church, St Sepulchre-without-Newgate, opposite the Old Bailey, apparently it was something he always did before a trial, but as far as they could tell he'd never arrived.

The body had been found by a couple of drunken kids in the early hours of the morning, he'd been strangled, just like the others, and the body had been dumped behind the church.

Molly carried out the autopsy but bar the fact that he'd been in the verge of heart failure anyway there wasn't a lot she could add. The markings on his neck were similar to those on the other victims and although he was a large man his general health had probably made him easy to overcome.

Sherlock and John arrived in the morgue soon after midday so that Sherlock could pick apart the results of the autopsy. He barked a few questions at Molly before making his way up to the labs to run some tests of his own.

Molly and John exchanged eye rolls at his brusqueness but Molly didn't take any offence. She knew he was just caught up in the latest death and she wanted him to solve it as much as he did. She felt just as much frustration at having to autopsy victims of a serial killer; it always seemed such a sad waste of life.

She was fairly busy the rest of the day with other autopsies and paper work so she didn't venture up to the lab until her shift was over. It was all silent so obviously John and Sherlock had left sometime in the afternoon.

She made her way back to Baker St. trying to muster up some enthusiasm for the cleaning that would need doing when she got there, but when she arrived there was a surprise.

She opened the door to the front room and stood for a moment, in shock, just looking around. The room was clean, not just clean but spotless. The carpet had been vacuumed, the surfaces polished and all the dirty pots had disappeared.

She walked around to the kitchen area and got the shock of her life. Billy Wiggins, one of Sherlock's homeless helpers, was leaning against the sink checking his mobile phone. Molly vaguely remembered him from that day that John had brought Sherlock into Bart's for a blood test. He looked a up, as she appeared, and smiled.

' 'Ello Miss 'Ooper. Shezza said you'd probably turn up at some point. He asked me to find someone to clean for ya. They're just finishin' the bathroom now so we'll be out of yer hair soon.' He dropped his voice to a whisper, 'I'm 'ere to supervise, make sure nuffin gets nicked, you know.'

Molly could only nod her head, 'oh, OK. Erm...is Sherlock paying you?'

'Yeah, yeah no worries, it's all in 'and. He asked me to make sure the place is kept clean and tidy for the duration. Only restrictions were 'is lab equipment and table in the front room an' your bedroom. We ain't touched that. Yer cat's in there at the moment, cute one isn't he. He didn't like the vacuum cleaner though.'

It was at that point that another lad came out of the bathroom wearing a pair of marigold gloves and carrying a bucket of water and some cleaning materials.

'All done, Bill. You wanna check it then I can take this stuff back to the old lady downstairs.'

'Alright Jay, give us a minute.'

Billy disappeared into the bathroom momentarily leaving an embarrassed Molly smiling politely at her new cleaner.

'Thanks very much for doing all this,' Molly said, sweeping her hand around, 'you've done a really good job.'

The lad smiled happily, and was surprisingly well spoken when he replied, 'that's alright, Miss, it's nice to be given the chance to earn some legit money and Mister Holmes is paying us well. I always had to clean up at home so I'm well practised. By the way, I hope you don't mind me sayin' but I had to scrub that table good and proper.' He indicated in the direction of the kitchen table. 'You should use a chopping board if you're cutting up raw meat otherwise it can contaminate other food. Covered in blood it was.'

Molly grimaced, suspecting it hadn't been animal blood on the table, maybe she should see about buying a replacement, though it hardly seemed worth it given the reintroduction downstairs of most of Sherlock's experiments. Billy came out at the same time and nodded to Jay, 'good work, right we'll be back same time next week, leave a note out if there's anything in particular you want doing, bye.'

'OK bye, and thanks again, you've no idea how grateful I am.' Molly closed the door behind them hearing them making their way downstairs. She leant back on the door and looked around her now sparkling flat. OK so Sherlock hadn't exactly done it himself but he'd thought about what she'd said and come up with a solution to make them both happy.

She gave a contented sigh of relief before making her way back into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. It made a change not having to hunt around for a clean mug. Jay had even wiped down the shelves in the kitchen cupboard and tidied up the crockery which was all a bit mis-matched and eclectic.

Molly sat on the settee with her cuppa and texted Sherlock.

_Flat looks amazing, thank you. Will you be back for dinner? Mx_

The reply came through ten minutes later.

_Back in 20 minutes, not hungry. SH_

Molly raised an eyebrow at the reply and decided to set about making something for both of them. She was still determined to make Sherlock eat more when he was on a case.

She was just serving up when he arrived back. She smiled to herself as she heard his footsteps on the stairs, she could always tell when it was him. He seemed to have a buzz of nervous energy which poured off him when he was in the middle of a case.

He swept into the front room throwing down some folders into the coffee table and hanging up his coat and scarf. He quickly spotted Molly in the kitchen and strode over to give her a bruising kiss before making his way back to the settee. He sat down opening up the files before him.

Molly set a plate down in front of him and sat next to him looking over his shoulder as she ate, 'so, my mad genius, how's it going?'

Sherlock looked over his shoulder as though just noticing she had joined him, he frowned and sighed, 'not well. It looks like another random victim. John and I spent all afternoon at Scotland Yard trying to find a connection between this victim and any of the others, but other than him being religious there's nothing. I keep coming back to the first murder, that's the one that's important, something about that victim is the key to this whole case. I've asked Lestrade to go back over his history and send me everything so I can see if anything sheds light on it.'

'What about the case the lawyer was working on? Could that be connected?' Molly asked trying not to react as she noticed Sherlock absent-mindedly eating a forkful of food.

'He was part of a defence team, the trial if a local teacher accused of child abuse. I took a quick look at the case, obviously guilty, I could tell just from his photograph, but it doesn't seem to be connected.'

He put his head in his hands for a minute before running his hands through his hair in frustration. Molly bit her lip at the sight knowing for a fact he had no idea how sexy it made him look.

'I feel as though I'm missing something obvious Molly, it's driving me mad.' He turned to face her before hesitating, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her, 'what are you doing?'

Molly blushed, knowing he'd caught her out daydreaming about him, 'me, what, nothing, why?'

'You're... aroused, I did something, what?'

'Oh, nothing, you just ruffled your hair that's all...it was sexy, cute, you know.'

'No Molly, I didn't know. You mean like this.' He brought his hands slowly up to his hair, smirking as he threw his head back and ruffled his hair as though he were in a slow-mo shampoo commercial.

Molly laughed, enjoying seeing a lighter side of Sherlock. 'You great idiot! Come on, tell me more about this case and when it is all over you can show me that move again but next time it should be naked in the shower. Deal!'

He laughed along with her before turning back to his files, 'deal!'

**Hope you're still enjoying. Next update will be posted on Sunday.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Here we are with the latest update. We've now surpassed 150 reviews for this story, so thank you for every single one. You've no idea how much it motivates me.**

**I should say there are references to child abuse but no details or descriptions will be given in this story. **

**Chapter 15**

It had been a couple of days since the last murder and Molly was starting to miss Sherlock a bit. Since the night she'd found Billy and his mate cleaning the flat she had hardly seen him. He and John and Lestrade had spent one night away following up a lead from the first victim's past. Apparently buried in the police files there had been a complaint of abuse from the time that Father Cassidy had overseen a children's home.

The complaint had come when one of the alleged victims had reached adulthood and was in his twenties, back in the early 1990's, but bar a couple of half-hearted interviews at the time, nothing had really been done.

Sherlock was convinced it was their first real lead and had wanted to call the victim in for an interview but Greg had put his foot down. Molly had been around in Baker St. and had heard the whole conversation.

'Absolutely not Sherlock. I am not letting you within ten yards of a potential child abuse victim. I can't think of many quicker ways for me to lose my job. No, I will personally go and see him and I will let you know exactly what he says.'

Sherlock had ranted and raved about being excluded but Greg wouldn't relent. In the end the only compromise had been to allow John to sit in in the interview and that, if the guy was happy, it would be recorded so Sherlock could play it back over and over to his heart's content. He had still insisted on travelling with them though.

Molly had just got a brief kiss before he'd swept out carrying a pre-packed overnight bag that he had ready for just such an eventuality.

When they had returned it had been armed with photographs and names of other residents of the children's home and both Sherlock and John, as well as Scotland Yard were trying to track them all down. It had all been over thirty years ago though so it was proving difficult and time-consuming.

And none of it stopped the fourth murder.

This time there did appear to be a connection to the original crime. It was the death of a retired bishop, living out in Shoreditch; he was found in his home by his neighbour. There was no sign of break in but he had been strangled just like the rest. The difference was it had quickly been established that he had worked with Father Cassidy in the late 70's, early 80's so if there had been any abuse he may well have either known about it or been involved himself. He'd converted to Church of England in the late 80's so he could marry his housekeeper and together they had retired in the parish of St Leonard's.

Sherlock had been running himself ragged and Molly was starting to worry. She spent an afternoon round at Mary's house, playing with baby Elizabeth, whilst Sherlock and John were following up yet another lead.

'I'm just not sure how to handle it, he never sleeps, he rarely eats. I know he has coped in the past but living with it, seeing it up close I just don't know what to do for the best.'

Mary looked at her, 'you mean you're anxious you'll do something to scare him away! Listen, he's finally realised he loves you, which frankly I wasn't sure he'd ever get round to, and he knows you accept the full package. He also knows who you are and that you will be worried for him and showing him that part of your personality is not going to push him away any more than him being an obnoxious git will push you away.'

'Listen, John just texted to say he'd be back soon, which means Sherlock will be back at your place. You just need to give him a reason to be distracted for a bit. You know what I mean, and you know good sex always makes for a good night's sleep after.' She winked at Molly as she said that laughing as Molly blushed.

'Mary!'

'What, you know I'm right. Go seduce yourself a Sherlock, maybe you could get him to eat some sexy food whilst you're at it, I'm thinking strawberries, ice cream, chocolate...not sure you should bother with oysters though, yuck'

They ended up googling aphrodisiac foods and by the time John got back they were crying laughing over how they could combine chillies and bananas into a dish that Sherlock might be tempted to eat.

John wasn't sure he ever wanted to know what that conversation was about but he did confirm that Sherlock would be back at Baker St. soon so Molly kissed them both goodbye and made the short walk back.

In the end she called in at a local greengrocer to pick up some strawberries and grapes and ended up buying some lemons that were on special offer. She was due off again the following day and thought she might rustle up a Lemon Drizzle cake using her nan' s old recipe. It always made her feel good.

When she got back Sherlock was sat in his chair obviously in his mind palace. Molly decided to take the opportunity for a quick shower. When she got out she rough dried her hair and slipped on a dressing gown before padding into the kitchen to slice up some of the strawberries and grapes. During all this time there was no reaction from Sherlock.

Molly leant against the kitchen counter eating the fruit and watching him. It felt as though it had been days since they'd been together and now she knew what sex was like with Sherlock she was feeling frustrated. Just watching him she could feel her arousal growing, the more she thought about it, about him, the worse it became until she could feel her pelvic muscles clenching and unclenching.

She huffed and pushed off from the counter walking towards him taking the bowl of fruit with her. Even when she was stood right in front of him he didn't twitch a muscle. So she climbed onto his lap straddling him. His eyes and mouth snapped open, before he frowned, 'Molly, I was in the middle of...'

'I don't care what you were in the middle of, I want you, I need you.' With that she took hold of his hands, breaking his prayer pose, placing them instead on her breasts. She looked down at him lust filling her eyes as she arched into his hands.

Sherlock looked as if he were trying to think what to say next, his mouth opened and closed a couple of times before his eyes flicked to her breasts and he squeezed them lightly shifting slightly so his thumbs could slide across her nipples. Molly knew at that moment that her gamble had paid off.

She picked up one of the grapes and pressed it to his lips until he opened his mouth and ate it. She repeated the move with one of the strawberries before cupping his cheeks and leaning in for a kiss. It might have started off slow but it soon deepened. It still hadn't faded for Molly, the surprise and the joy she felt every time she kissed him. It made her heart beat faster, made her body shiver in anticipation, made her wet for him each and every time. She could feel him responding to her physically and she ground herself on his hardness.

He soon pushed off the dressing gown that she was wearing and breaking their kiss he sucked her left breast into his warm mouth. She could feel his teeth grazing her skin and his tongue swirling round the nipple. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back as she held his head to her breast. He always, always turned her on. It wasn't long before they were locked together with him buried deep inside her, rocking against each other, kissing, holding, touching, skin on skin. When Molly came the sound of her crying out his name and her hands clutching at his body sent Sherlock over the edge into his own climax. He hadn't realised until that moment how much he had needed the release, how tightly wound he had become.

They stayed wrapped up in each other for quite a while just holding each other, still kissing and touching until they finally separated. Sherlock went off to have a quick shower whilst Molly sat for a moment watching the flames of the fire and relishing the aching of her body.

It wasn't long before he came back in wearing pyjama trousers and his blue dressing gown. Molly went back into the kitchen to finish unpacking the shopping and start some dinner whilst Sherlock made his way to the windows and picked up his violin, testing the strings, plucking and tightening them.

Molly chatted away happily to him telling him about visiting Mary and how much Elizabeth had grown. 'I picked up some fruit on the way back, they were selling off some oranges and lemons cheap so I thought I'd do some baking tomorrow.

Sherlock glanced round and placing the violin under his chin he started to play the old folk song that Molly remembered from her childhood. She giggled and sang along.

'Oranges and Lemons, say the bells of St Clements.

You owe me five farthings, say the bells of St. Martin's.

When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey...'

Molly trailed off when she realised Sherlock was no longer playing. She glanced round and then stopped what she was doing when she saw his expression. He suddenly flung the violin onto his chair and moved towards her, 'Molly the next line, what is it? Come on, hurry.'

'I...err...I'm not sure. It's years since I..'

He waved her off, as he made for his laptop, 'never mind, I'll look it up. Get my phone.'

Molly knew that something important had happened so she ignore his brusqueness searching through the pockets of his coat and jacket until she found it. He snatched it from her as soon as she took it over and immediately dialled.

'Lestrade, Sherlock, I know the next murder site. I'll be with you in fifteen minutes.' He hung up and threw the phone to Molly, 'text John, tell him to meet me at the yard as soon as possible.' He made his way to the bedroom to get dressed leaving a stunned Molly in his wake.

**I'm aware that not everyone will be familiar with the song/nursery rhyme so here is a you tube link to a version. Doesn't sound creepy at all when you're thinking about Sherlock and the murders...no not at all ;)** ** youtu .be / azAZoF0rxe4 **

**You'll need to copy paste and remove the gaps for the link to work.** **As ever please feed my muse and review.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Time to move things along and concentrate on the crime. Thank you as always for your reviews, I have some amazing reviews and some even more amazing reviewers.**

**Chapter 16**

As he grabbed his coat and phone to leave Baker St. Molly was asking him what had happened. 'No time Molly, I'll tell you everything when I get back, don't wait up.' It was mere seconds before he was out of the house a hailing a cab, as Molly watched from the upstairs window.

Once he was in, and had barked his instructions to the cabbie, he was straight on his phone checking which church, in Stepney, the rhyme was referring too.

As Molly had been singing he'd suddenly realised that the song, which he vaguely remembered his mother singing to him as a small child, matched the churches where each of the first three murders had taken place, St Clements, St Martins and Old Bailey.

When he'd checked the rest of the song online the Shoreditch reference also matched the next line, as did the specific church in Shoreditch_. _It was no coincidence, the sing and the murders were linked.

He reviewed the whole song once more paying special attention to the last lines which gave him the clue as to where the killer would strike next.

_Oranges and Lemons_

_Say the bells of St Clements_

_You owe me five farthings_

_Say the bells of St Martins_

_When will you pay me _

_Say the bells of Old Bailey_

_When I am rich _

_Say the bells of Shoreditch_

_When will that be_

_Say the bells of Stepney_

_I do not know,_

_Says the great bell of Bow_

_Here comes a candle to light you to bed,_

_And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!_

_Chip chop Chip chop the last man is dead_

He arrived at Scotland Yard about the same time as John and Greg met them both at the doors, 'what have you got for us, Sherlock?'

As they made their way through the corridors he quickly explained the correlation with the rhyme. He showed them the web page with the words and told them the next murder would be connected with St Dunstan's in Stepney. It had only taken a quick search to identify the church which the song referred to.

'But knowing the location and catching the murderer are two different things Sherlock. We need more information.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes, 'oh come on. There's a pattern, the murders have all been within a certain time frame and it's been reducing with each one. His need to kill is accelerating, taking him over; I believe the next murder will take place tomorrow night. Have your team narrowed down the suspects from the residents of the home?'

'Not really, it was over thirty years ago, spanning almost a decade. Records from then are patchy to say the least, some are dead so we can write them off, others have moved abroad or live too far away but that still leaves nearly a hundred unaccounted for and that's just the ones we know about.'

'Then we have to look at who might be the target instead. We've got 24 hours to check whether anyone connected to the church is connected to Father Cassidy or Bishop Breverick. If we can narrow down the possible victim that would be a start.'

The next few hours were spent trawling through files, phoning the church and planning how they could stake out the site without drawing attention to themselves and potentially alerting the killer. For most of this time Sherlock sat in Lestrade's office rereading the evidence from each crime scene and refining the profile he had in his head of the killer, seeing if he could narrow down the list from the children's home even more. Being in the office didn't stop him barking orders, shouting at Lestrade's team and demanding regular cups of coffee.

It was a relief to all of Greg's staff, therefore, when John finally called it a night and dragged Sherlock with him.

'We're close John, I can feel it!'

'Yes, I know, but if we don't get some sleep we'll have slow reaction times and less ability to catch this guy so let's all just take a break and meet back tomorrow.'

When he made his way back into his flat it was dark and silent. He glanced at the clock surprised to see it was after four a.m.

He quickly stripped out of his clothes and slid into the bed next to Molly, careful to avoid waking both her and Toby who was also curled up asleep at the bottom of the bed. She grunted slightly and rolled over snuggling up against him wrapping him in her warmth. He lay in the dark for a while thinking how different his life was now that she was in it. He had always assumed that a relationship would hold him back, slow him down. He had never considered that it might be beneficial, helpful. He hugged her to him, kissing the top of her head, thankful that she had not given up on him. He was beginning to realise just how fortunate he was that he had finally realised his feelings and said something before it had been too late.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The next day, over her breakfast and his coffee, Sherlock had quickly brought Molly up to speed with the case before leaving once again for Scotland Yard. As he had been heading out of the door Molly had quickly caught at his hand spinning him back round.

'What? Molly, I need to go.'

'Wait...I...just, be careful Sherlock. I can't lose you, not now, not ever.'

His face softened slightly and he bent to kiss her cheek, 'don't worry Molly I have every intention of coming back unharmed. I WILL see you later.'

She caught his face kissing him on the lips before letting him go. She just couldn't explain the feeling of dread in her stomach as she watched him turn down the stairs and out of view.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

A few hours later Sherlock, John, Greg and various police were dotted sound St Dunstan's church. They had been in contact with most of the church staff, checked backgrounds to ensure no connection and then developed the plan to have an officer dressed as a curate and act as a decoy walking in and around the church in the hope they could lure the killer out.

As for the identity of the murderer, with a lot of hard work and effort, they had it narrowed the known suspects down to three possible people who were understood to be living in London but who nobody had been able to track down in time. There was still the risk that it was someone who's records no longer existed. As it was the photographs of the three possibilities had been circulated to everybody. Sherlock was working in the basis that it was 42 year old, clerical administrator, Michael Royston unless he was proved otherwise but beyond his own deductions he hadn't had any proof with which to convince the others.

They had been waiting now for over four hours. John was hidden in the grounds of the church, crouched down behind one of the larger gravestones; Sherlock was about five feet to his left in a similarly uncomfortable situation. John's back felt as though it was fusing into its bent position and he would have given good money to be able to stretch. He looked over at Sherlock who seemed just as focused as he had when they first started this stake out. He didn't appear to be bothered at all about the physical discomfort to John's envy.

After another bone aching ten minutes there was movement over by the church as the undercover officer, posing as a curate wearing a full length black cassock, came out of the church and made his way over to one of the few cars parked in the grounds. He had been doing this periodically throughout the evening trying to draw out the killer. A noise round the side of the church caught his attention and he could be seen making his way towards the shadows and towards where John and Sherlock were hidden. John tried to see where the noise had come from but could make nothing out in the darkness.

It was only as a figure emerged from the deep shadow at the side of the church and attacked the officer that all hell broke loose. Sherlock leapt from his hiding place running full pelt towards the attacker. 'Shit', John pushed himself to his feet groaning at the pain in his back as he limpingly ran after Sherlock futilely trying to catch up.

He saw Sherlock catch up to the struggling pair and grasp the shoulders of the attacker pulling him round and off the decoy. Then he watched in horror as seemingly in slow motion the officer fell to the floor grasping at his neck and coughing before the attacker swung his fist at Sherlock. There was an audible crack as his fist connected with the side of Sherlock's skull. John heard himself shouting his name but he was impotent, unable to help. He saw Sherlock's head twist round violently before his body followed and he crumpled unmoving to the ground.

**Dun, dun, duuuuunnnnn. OK so as cliff hangers go it's not a biggy but still... Next update will be Saturday this week as I'll be too busy eating Easter eggs on Sunday. There's not that much further with this story, only about three more chapters left so hang on in there.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Posting a bit earlier than my normal Sunday. I'm aiming to finish this story before I go in holiday next weekend. Thank you all for your follows, your favourites and most of all your reviews. I have some amazing followers. Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate and to those that don't Happy Chocolate Egg Day.**

**Chapter 17**

Molly wondered if she would ever get used to the calls in the middle of the night that sent her flying desperately to a hospital praying all the while that Sherlock would still be alive when she got there.

The call had come through just before midnight from Greg saying that Sherlock, with John in attendance, was heading to a local hospital. She knew he had a head wound and that he was unconscious but Greg didn't have much more information than that, from all the noise in the background she knew he must be in the middle of a big operation.

She threw on some clothes as she called a cab and was soon sitting in the back driving through the dark streets biting on her thumb nail. She'd texted John and tried to ring him but she hadn't received an answer.

When she arrived in A&amp;E no one seemed to have heard of Sherlock or know where he was. It was a typical weekend night though filled with drunks and victims of fights. The nurses and reception were over worked and under staffed. The receptionist told her to wait and if any paperwork came her way with Sherlock's name on she would let her know.

It was the longest fifteen minutes of Molly's life as she sat there wondering who she could call or what she could do to get more information. If this had been Bart's it would have been so much easier, she knew people, hell she had a staff badge. She could have checked all the cubicles looking for him. She chewed on her lip for a second glancing up at the receptionist who was now busy dealing with another person.

_Sod it!_ Molly made her way to the Ladies toilets and once inside she hung up her coat, if it was stolen so be it, she could buy a new one. Next she found her badge in her bag and pinned it onto her shirt so it was partially covered by her cardigan, then she exited the toilets and made her way into the main treatment area. She just needed to look confident, as though she was meant to be there.

She walked through glancing briefly into each bay, listening out for any mention of Sherlock or the sound of John's voice. About half way round she heard Sherlock's unmistakeable tones and she sighed with relief.

'For God's Sake John, he's out there and those incompetent buffoons will never track him down.'

Molly made her way, smiling now, towards the argument.

'Sherlock, you are concussed. You are not going anywhere so you might as well just suck it up and lie back down before I have you sedated.'

Molly swept the curtain back to find Sherlock sitting up half in and half out of the bed with John trying to physically wrestle him back in.

They comically both looked round in surprise as Molly entered. It was John who reacted first, 'Molly, thank God you're here. Please talk some sense into him. He's not in any fit state to go chasing criminals. He's definitely concussed and with a possible fracture, we're supposed to be waiting for a skull X-Ray.'

Sherlock just rolled his eyes, 'I can tell you both right now, I have no fracture. I just need some pain killers and we can be in our way.'

Molly assessed the situation and grinned, 'it's alright John, let him up.'

John frowned at Molly but moved back.

'Thank you Molly, a voice of reason at last,' said Sherlock as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

He made to move forward but stopped, swaying slightly; he put a hand out to balance himself but missed the edge of the bedside cabinet. He was about to topple to the floor when John caught him and pushed him back towards the bed.

By the time he lay back down he was a strange shade of white and Molly knew that that was the nausea kicking in. She'd seen enough cases of concussion during her time in A&amp;E when she'd been a junior doctor to know he wouldn't want to go anywhere now.

He was right about the x-ray, there was no fracture and once he'd been given some anti-nausea medication and pain killers there was no reason for him to be kept in further. John and Molly were given permission to take him home on the understanding that he would have bed rest for at least 24 hours. The fact that they were both doctors helped and Molly knew Sherlock would hate being forced to stay in hospital.

John travelled back to Baker St. and stayed long enough to help Molly get Sherlock into the bedroom. They had also ensured he was given a sleeping draught as neither of them trusted him to stay there without one.

'Are you going to be OK looking after him Molly?' Asked John yawning as he did.

'Yes, of course. Now off you go, you look dead on your feet. Although you know we still have your bed upstairs, if you'd prefer to crash there?'

'No, no, I want to get back to Mary and Elizabeth.' He kissed Molly on the cheek, 'I'll call you tomorrow and check on how he is. 'Goodnight Molly.'

Molly made herself a cup of tea, she needed to take a moment to breath and calm her emotions before heading to bed. She knew this was what she had signed up for the moment she fell in love with Sherlock Holmes but it didn't make the reality of living it any easier. She hated how vulnerable and scared the thought of losing him made her feel.

She sat quietly on the settee, in the dark, sipping her cuppa. Her hand swiped at a single tear falling down her face as she remembered the sinking in her stomach, the ice cold grip of terror on her heart when she'd taken the call earlier that night. She knew though, without a doubt, that she couldn't and wouldn't walk away. She would never say goodbye to Sherlock, she would always be his probably even after death.

She shook her head quickly pulling herself out of her momentary black mood. Things always seemed bleaker in the middle of the night. What she needed was a good night's sleep and everything would be back to normal in the morning.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock woke the next day with a blinding headache. He groaned as he rolled over squinting at the sunlight creeping around the edges of his curtains. As he rolled a surge of nausea rippled through his body, his mouth immediately filling with saliva. He groaned and stopped moving, trying to calm his mind and his body, willing himself not to be sick. It was like a mantra repeated over and over in his head. He couldn't think about anything other than how sick he felt.

As he lay there he suddenly felt a cold cloth being placed on his forehead and heard Molly gently talking to him. 'Sherlock, can you sit up a bit? I've got some painkillers and your anti-sickness tablets. Do you think you can manage them?'

It was the promise of imminent relief from the pain and sickness that had him edging up onto his elbows. He looked up at Molly who was backlit by the light from the kitchen and thought she looked like an angel. Then he frowned slightly wondering if he was feeling febrile, he was obviously more ill than he'd realised to be so horribly romantic.

At Molly's prompting he opened his mouth and received the pill sipping on the water she was holding for him. He repeated again with a different pill before allowing Molly to push him back gently onto the bed. She used the cold cloth to cool off his face and chest until his colour returned to something more like normal.

Gradually, the pounding in his head reduced and he felt able to sit more upright in the bed.

'Do you think you could manage a cup of tea? I can make you some toast as well if you want.'

'Just tea... What happened last night? After I was hit I mean, did they catch him?'

Molly talked to him from the kitchen where she was filling the kettle. 'No, they didn't. Greg called this morning, he's coming round in an hour or so to get your advice on what to do next.' As she said that her head appeared round the doorway, 'get back in that bed right now, you are not going anywhere but the loo today. Greg can consult with you in here!'

In the end she relented and allowed Sherlock to at least move to the front room where he half lay on the settee covered by a blanket and still in his pyjamas and a dressing gown. She was fairly surprised with how compliant he was being but in all honesty Sherlock felt like shit and didn't really have any desire to be anywhere else. He hadn't been punched the night before he'd been hit with a cosh and he was lucky not to have suffered more serious damage. He remembered seeing the cosh at the last minute and managing to turn his head just enough for it to not kill him or shatter his skull.

John turned up ten minutes before Greg and went straight into doctor mode checking Sherlock's pulse, shining a light into his eyes and making him visually follow his finger until Sherlock huffed and batted it away with an irritated, 'I'm fine John.'

When Greg arrived Molly made them all coffee (tea in Sherlock's case) and they pulled the chairs round so they could sit facing Sherlock. Molly sat at the end of the settee lifting his legs so they went across her lap. She absentmindedly stroked his calf and feet and John was struck by how domestic and comfortable they looked. Molly really was perfect for Sherlock and he was glad the great oaf had finally realised it.

Lestrade brought them all up to speed with what had happened after John and Sherlock had left. The killer was now confirmed as Michael Royston just as Sherlock had predicted. His photo had been sent round the Met and all his known friends and family were being visited but so far with no success.

'What I need to know now Sherlock, is what you think he will do next and where? Am I looking at more murders?'

Sherlock sighed. He closed his eyes whilst he thought through everything about the case so far and the limited information they had about Royston. 'I don't think so. Last night will have been something of a wakeup call for him. This is the reality of being a killer and being on the run. It's not something he has experience with and not something he planned for. I suspect the end is in sight and I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't take his own life, he won't want to risk being imprisoned. He'd see that as being as bad as his time in the children's home, locked up and at the mercy of people with more power than him, it would be his worst nightmare.'

Greg nodded his head looking relieved. 'Alright, I'll keep you informed as and when I have any more information. Get well soon Sherlock. Thanks for the coffee Molly. John.' With that he left.

**You know what to do now, see that little box in the corner. Send me a kiss :) if you liked it.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Ugh...too many Easter eggs. Feel sick now. I'd say I couldn't manage another mouthful but I hear there is a chocolate Cumberbatch and I'm sure I could manage a morsel of that. But I digress, on with the story.**

**Chapter 18**

John left soon after but when Molly made to get up to show him out Sherlock pouted and stopped her, 'you can see yourself out can't you John,' he said dismissively.

John raised his eyebrows before smiling sympathetically at Molly, 'yes, I suppose I can. Let me know if anything happens with the case.'

He closed the door to the flat behind him and as they heard his footsteps walking away Molly looked at Sherlock quizzically.

He looked back defiantly, 'what? I'm ill. I need you looking after me.'

Molly smiled, 'you mean you're enjoying me pampering you and massaging your legs and feet.'

Sherlock closed his eyes and leant his head back; the bruise on the side of his face was still an angry black and purple. 'Yes, carry on, it's relaxing. Don't feel the need to stop at my knees, the tops of my legs need a massage too.'

Molly slapped him lightly on his thigh, 'you are too ill to get horny. You'll just have to wait til your well enough.'

He smiled without opening his eyes but didn't complain. They sat together in comfortable silence until Sherlock drifted back off too sleep.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

It was just after ten in the evening and Molly was just about to help Sherlock into bed when there was a furious knocking on the front door. Molly started to go downstairs when she heard Mrs Hudson answer and send Lestrade running up the stairs.

He saw Molly at the curve of the staircase and asked her whether Sherlock was still awake. She nodded leading the way into the flat.

Sherlock was sitting up on the settee leaning forwards, 'what is it? What's happened?'

'Just as you said Sherlock. We found a body, he committed suicide earlier this evening, hung himself not far from St Mary Le Bow Church.'

Sherlock murmured to himself the last lines of the song, 'I do not know says the great bell of Bow, here comes the candle to light you to bed, and here comes a chopper to chop of your head.'

He looked up at Greg and Molly, 'well, I suppose it would have been difficult to chop off his own head. But why are you here! Ah...There's something more...'

'Yes, yes there is.' Greg put his hand in his pocket drawing out an envelope, 'he left a note, addressed to you. We haven't opened it.' He held it out to Sherlock who took it, looking over the envelope and studying the writing before he opened it.

He took out the letter and read it to Greg and Molly who had sat on the chair and the coffee table, respectively, to listen.

_Dear Mr Holmes,_

_Before I start I wanted to apologise for hitting you yesterday. I only recognised you as you fell to the ground. I've long been an admirer of your work, after all who hasn't read Dr Watson's blog or heard about you. _

_As soon as I realised it was you I knew the game was up and it was just a matter of time before you and the police found me. I can't go to prison and so the only option for me is to go out on my own terms, after all what is the sin of suicide compared to what I've already done._

_I'm sure you've already worked out why I did what I did but thought you might want me to fill in the blanks. Plus I find now I'm at the end I want people to know I didn't just kill for no reason. I was set on this path because of what was done to me and it was wrong._

_It was all just a terrible coincidence you see. I'd pushed the abuse out if my mind, buried it so I didn't have to think about it. I hadn't even been in a church for over twenty years but it played on my mind. I wanted my faith back, wanted to believe so I popped into the church not far from where I get the tube to work. _

_It seemed only natural when I got there to go for confession. It was what we were always taught to do as children. For the first time I talked about the abuse but when the priest...when he replied it was to blame me, tell me it was my fault and then I knew, I recognised his voice and I realised it was him._

_I can't even remember what happened next, not clearly, it was like a rage descended and when I came round he was lying there, dead. Well you know what happened next._

_It was like a gate had opened in my head though and all the fear and the horror and the memories came flooding out, taking over my every thought and I knew that what had been done to me was wrong and to make it worse they'd never been punished, none of them. Not the nuns who ran the home, not the priests who knew what was happening, not the lawyers or the police, none of them did anything. So I did._

_I tracked down the priest, the one person who I'd confided in back then, calls himself a Bishop now but he was nothing but a coward. I told him and he didn't do a thing to help me, just told me I was mistaken, stupid, even nasty for making such an accusation._

_It was when I saw where he was living that that song came back to me. We all used to sing it in the children's home and I thought why not tie the two together. Avenge all those kids who had innocently sung that song until they ruined us. You see they say in the bible 'vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord' but it's crap. It's just not true. He didn't protect us and neither would he avenge us, so I had to._

_I do regret hurting you though Mr Holmes, you hadn't done anything against me and I hope you recover quickly._

_My only regret is that there wasn't someone clever like you back then, someone who would have seen what was happening and been strong enough to stop it._

_As for me, I suppose now there is nothing left but to see what judgment will befall me wherever I end up._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Michael Royston_

A hush fell over them when Sherlock had finished readingeach of them lost for a moment in their own thoughts.

Greg broke the silence, slapping his hands on his knees, 'right, well it looks like that wraps everything up. Better get back and sort out the paperwork. Do you mind?' He held out his hand for the letter which Sherlock dutifully handed over.

When Greg had left Sherlock made his way to the bedroom whilst Molly tidied up a few bits and pieces. She felt strangely unsettled, surely the solving of a case should be more euphoric but she was just left with a sense of great sorrow, sorrow for the people killed, well most of them anyway, but most of all sorrow for that child all those years ago that no one had helped or listened too.

She was stood leaning over the sink, her eyes closed, when she felt Sherlock wrap his arms around her waist and lean his head against hers.

'You can't let it bother you too much or you'll drown under the weight of it. My brother once told me that caring is not an advantage and it's at times like these when he is proved right.'

Molly turned in his arms and looked up at him, 'and what about you, do you think he's right...your brother I mean?'

Sherlock gave her a small smile, 'I used to, for a long time I believed that. Sometimes, like now, when a case has been difficult I still believe it. But when it comes to you and me... no, I don't believe it anymore. You have proved to me that caring is an advantage. You help me rest and step away when I need to which means my mind is better able to make connections than it could before.'

Molly knew she was being unfair and fishing but she couldn't help it, 'is that all I am to you then? An advantage in a case.'

She felt Sherlock chuckle, his chest pressed up against hers. 'You know that's not true. You mean more to me than any case, Molly Hooper.' He kissed the top of her head and held her close.

**Next chapter is the last one! Question is do you want smut or SMUT. I've drafted it out and I'm worried it might be too much...decisions, decisions.**


	19. Epilogue

**Well you're a mucky lot and I love you for it. The overwhelming vote was for SMUT but don't worry there is sweet in there too.**

**Thank you all for reading my little offering, it's been a blast. So without further ado on with the last chapter.**

**Epilogue**

It was a couple of months later when Molly came home to find Sherlock had finally managed to get rid of her old chest of drawers. He'd been complaining about the state of them since she had first moved in.

She went to get changed and initially didn't notice anything as she flung her cardigan onto the bed and kicked off her shoes. It was only as she went over to the wardrobe to take out a new top that she saw it. A brand new dressing table complete with mirror and stool all in the same matching wood as the rest if the furniture.

There was even a beautiful jewellery box on the top and an old fashioned, silver backed hairbrush and hand mirror.

'Do you like it?'

She spun round to find Sherlock in the doorway watching for her reaction. She beamed back happily, 'yes I love it, but why now?'

'Why not now? I commissioned it a while ago but it had to be custom made so took longer than I had hoped.'

He walked towards her wrapping her in his strong arms. She willingly tilted her head to receive his kiss. It never got old or boring kissing Sherlock. He still made her heart beat faster, her skin tingle even after living together for months.

He groaned as the kiss went on and moved her back until her knees hit the bed and they fell onto it together still not breaking the kiss. He tasted of coffee and faintly of cigarettes and Molly knew she would have to tell him off later and hunt out his stash but she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. Not when his hand was sliding under her top and up her side. His thumb stroked the underside of her breast and she shivered with anticipation.

She brought her hands forward and let them glide down his chest loving the feel of his muscles under her palms. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt pushing it off his shoulders so she could feel his skin. He knelt up bringing her with him so he could pull her top over her head before flinging it off to the side. He kissed her again as he unfastened her bra then he broke off and stared hungrily at her breasts.

She lay back down enjoying seeing the unbridled lust in his eyes. His appetite for sex was endless. The only time it waned was during cases and even then she knew she could easily persuade him if she needed too. It was almost as though his body were trying to make up for the fifteen years of abstinence that had gone before and Molly was more than happy as the recipient.

She thought back to their first time, in front of the fire, just over six months ago. They'd come so far since then, moving in together, coping with his first case, so many days and nights spent exploring each other's bodies and desires. She blushed when she remembered fulfilling Sherlock's fantasy of 'fucking her in the lab'.

She'd waited until she was on a night shift, where nothing much was happening, then she'd texted him to come urgently to see a body that had just been brought in.

When he had burst through the doors all ruffled hair and swirling coat she had been waiting at the side of them.

She quickly locked the door behind him as he had looked around, confused. At least he was confused initially, it hadn't taken him long at all to deduce her plan, particularly when he realised she was only wearing high heels, a lab coat and not much else.

Sherlock plunging two fingers into her brought her back to reality though. She bucked up against him crying out his name. He always knew just what to do to make her come, his mind palace had never been more useful, in Molly's opinion.

He used his thumb to press into her clit rolling it in tight circles and he loved the sound of her moans and sighs. Sherlock had quickly realised that giving in to sentiment, being with Molly, like this, was the best decision he had ever made. She completed and complimented him in a way no one else had done before. He positioned himself at her warm, tight entrance and closed his eyes as he pushed slowly into her, relishing the feeling of her wrapped all around him, the look of her, the feel, the smell; all of it catalogued in infinite detail in his mind.

He could feel her short nails, kept that way for work, scraping lightly and deliciously down his back until she was gripping his backside pulling him into her more deeply. He used his tongue to lick from the base of her neck to her ear where he sucked until he knew he had marked her. He loved making her his. He knew it was base and animalistic but he got a kick out of seeing her trying to cover up a love bite when he was in the morgue with her, knowing other men knew she was his. The modern man in him knew he was being an idiot but he couldn't help it.

He withdrew until he was almost out if her, waited a beat and then plunged back in. The sensation of cold air and her hot, wet centre nearly making him come. He willed himself not too as he repeated the movement over and over, hearing Molly pleading with him, pleading with God before she came. He could feel her walls pressing down on his needy cock, she pulled his head down to her and kissed him desperately, plunging her tongue into his mouth as she moaned loudly. He thrust into her twice more before he came himself, feeling his seed spurt into her in pulses. He bent his head to her neck and kissed her collarbone whilst they both got their breath back.

'Mmmmmmmm, God Sherlock that was so good.'

He hummed in agreement before pushing himself up, taking his weight off her. He leant down to give her a brief kiss before he made his way through to set the shower running in the bathroom.

She joined him a minute later putting her hands round his waist and pressing her chest against his back whilst he tested the water. Once the temperature was just right he pulled her in with him. Together they slowly took it in turns to wash each other. Sherlock still joked with her about ruffling his hair in the shower and she still laughed happily. He took his time washing and conditioning her hair before his hands slid down to her shoulders and then to her breasts. He fondled them as she pressed her back against his chest and his erection which was back in force.

She let her head fall back into his shoulder as he kissed the base of her neck, 'mmm feeling extra randy today are you Mister Holmes?'

He didn't answer, instead he pushed her forward until she was leaning her hands against the shower wall with her backside pushing up against him. He slid back into her, knowing she would still be wet from their previous coupling. He took his time initially making sure he was positioned so as not to cause her pain, once he was confident he started to thrust. Molly pushed herself back onto him causing him to go deeper until he was in her up to his hilt.

They were both moaning and sighing and Sherlock was quite glad that Baker St. was empty tonight. He leant forward catching her bouncing breasts, pinching her nipples before letting one hand slide down to circle her clit. He knew she was close as was he and when they came, shortly after, Molly almost collapsed from the exertion and the enormity of her climax. He caught her round her middle and held her as he sagged against the wall.

This time they finished their cleaning quite quickly as the temperature of the water started to dip. Molly squeaked in shock as Sherlock exited before her, just before the cold fully hit. She gasped as she stepped out hitting him again as he laughed. 'You bastard you did that on purpose.'

Sherlock watched her as she wrapped up in a dressing gown, towel rubbing her hair as she went to sit at her new dressing table. She let her hands glide over the hair brush and mirror before she opened the jewellery box. 'Oh!'

He walked round the bed until he was behind her and sat down, 'do you like it?'

She twisted round holding the diamond engagement ring in her hand, the fingers of her other hand on her mouth. He could see tears forming in her eyes. 'Sherlock, I love it.'

He took her hand from her mouth and held it and looking her in the eyes he said, 'Molly Hooper, will you do me the honour of being my wife?'

Molly looked at this man that she had loved for so long, this man that she had thought until recently she would never be with, this man who loved her now as much as she loved him, 'yes Sherlock, I will.'

**And there we have it. The end. I hope you all enjoyed the read and the ride. I'll be starting a new story soon, something fluffy and light. I enjoy the crime stories but they are hard work to write. So keep an eye out. **

**In the meantime give me your final review on this story.**


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